


East City High - Take: Edward Elric

by orphan_account



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amestris, Attempt at Humor, Edward Elric Is A Little Shit, Edward Elric Keeps Automail, Edward Elric Swears, Edward Elric is an Asshole, Hawkeye Actually Has a Brain, Hohenheim is a Bad Dad, Homunculus Makes Ed's Life Hard, Jean Is A Little Shit, M/M, Mixes modern and past culture, POV Edward Elric, Restored Alphonse Elric, Roy Mustang Flirts, Slow Burn, Xingese Roy Mustang, but not really, ed almost gets killed like 8 time, is a mix of european and american school, it's considered slow because i have no concept of pacing, royed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 75,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25718887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Edward Elric is roped into a school event by Roy Mustang, who has taken an interest in him. Winry and Al are very good people for sticking with Ed.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Edward Elric & Team Mustang, Edward Elric & Winry Rockbell, Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 72
Kudos: 115





	1. First Day, First Fuck-Ups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed tries to make the Al's first day nice, but the nice doesn't want Ed.

“Brother. Brother! Ed!” Alphonse’s soft voice and prodding assaulted Ed’s ears as his brain struggled to wake up.

“Eugh?” he mumbled. He swatted a hand toward the hand poking his side and rolled over, only to be met with a bright light as Al swung open the curtains.

“Euugh!” Ed groaned as he stuffed his head into his pillow. What time was it? Surely it was too early for this. He had such a nice dream too, Winry was there, not yelling at him for once and instead baking apple pie. Al was around, playing with Den. Then… something happened. Ed couldn’t remember. Point was, Ed got apple pie and all was well. Until Alphonse started to poke Ed to get him awake.

“Brother, come on! It’s my first year of highschool, remember?” 

Ed lifted his head and blinked wearily. Oh right, school. He groaned and let out a loud yawn, stretching his back. “Eugh. Right, fuck m’up. Ya happy?” 

Alphonse was bobbing up and down excitedly, his eyes practically shone with excitement. Ed smiled softly at the sight of his brother. He yawned once more and licked his chapped lips.

“Hand me m’ arm, will ya?” With a soft hiss of pain, Ed latched his prosthetic onto his shoulder port and shifted on the bed to reach the leg on the ground. It was a nuisance, to say the least. Having two fake limbs meant shocks of pain at 6 in the morning, not fun! On the bright side, he was more aware than he was a second ago, if only marginally.

“‘s Winry even up?” he grumbled to Al, who flashed a grin at him as he helped him up. 

“Nope!”  _ Awesome _ . Ed scowled darkly at his brother as he rolled his shoulder and stretched out his leg. He hobbled to the bathroom, while Al pulled out his clothes and unearthed a brush from the mess that made up his drawers. 

“‘Hanks,” he muttered around the toothpaste foaming in his mouth. Half an hour later, his golden hair was braided, his clothing was donned, and Ed was semi functioning. Semi functioning, as in he didn’t fall down the stairs, which was quite impressive, really.

When Ed and Al entered the kitchen, Granny Pinako was preparing breakfast, eggs cooking on the skillet. Winry was shuffling around, still in her sleep wear.

“Coffee?” Ed called to Winry. 

“Nearly, but we’re almost out of sugar,” she responded, turning the Granny. Ed scowled at her, as she pulled out dishes to help with breakfast. 

“We can get groceries after school,” Al announced, “We’ll be in East City anyways.”

Edward snatched what was left of the sugar off the counter and spooned it into his coffee as soon as it was done, basically inhaling the scalding liquid. After doing the same to his breakfast, he brooded at the table, bracing himself for the new school year while Al chattered happily with Winry about the classes. 

Armed with a second cup of coffee, a thermos full of soup, and his bookbag, Ed bid Granny and Den farewell before departing for the train station with Ed and Winry. The summer heat lingered in Resembool, and by the time the three reached the train station they had broken into a light sweat. 

“Good mornin’, Ed, Al, and Winry,” the lady in the ticket booth greeted, and she rifled around her desk, organizing her papers.

“Good morning, Ms. Schol!” Winry chirped, “Can Ed and I renew our year-round cards? And get a new one for Al? We’re headed to East City for school.”

“Of course, Ms. Rockbell, it’ll be 8,000 cenz for you two to renew, and 10,000 for a new one.” Once they handed over the money and boarded the train, the trio fell into silence; Ed brooding by the window effectively dispelled any conversation. 

* * *

The sun was fully up when they reached East City three stops later. With 15 minutes to spare before school started they checked in at the office for their schedules, and took the time to show Alphonse around the school.

“I have first block Math, Geometry with a… Mr. Marcoh?” 

“Oh, Marcoh? I had ‘em last year, he’s not bad, but I think he was a war vet. Knows his stuff but gets real sad sometimes,” Ed recalled, Marcoh was nice, if not a bit odd. Ed and Winry walked Al upstairs and set off for their own classes.

“D’you want to meet up during study hall? I think for second years it’s during fifth block,” Ed proposed, and Winry nodded, “We could hang out in the study room near the choir room, no one’s ever down there.”

Plans made and Al delivered, the two parted ways, Ed to Gym and Winry to History. Gym first thing in the morning, great way to start the school year.

To avoid anyone in the gym itself, Edward headed straight into the locker room to change. Out of his bag came two skin sleeves for his automail. “Automail” was this idea that had been toyed with for years, using steel to make prosthetics that allowed for more strength and mobility than normal prosthetics, and Winry being Winry had jumped right onto the bandwagon, his right arm and left leg was the result. The downside was people tended to stare when your limbs were made of metal. 

With some struggle, he tugged on the thin layer of skin and changed into the mandatory gym shirt and shorts. He headed out and caught the tail ends of conversation some boys were having right outside the locker room.

“-retired after he busted his knee or something, the new teacher’s young, hot too!” 

“ _ Please _ , don’t flirt with the gym teacher, Jean.”

New teacher, eh? A shame, Ed took great joy in pissing off old Mr. McDougal. He would  _ not _ miss the teacher that tended to douse you in water when he thought you were slacking. Maybe this new teacher would take a liking to Ed, you never know. He stepped over the peak into the gym teacher’s office and froze.  _ No. _

Ed turned around and ran, this couldn’t be happening. A hand shot out and grabbed the neck of his shirt. 

“Edward Elric! Where do you think you’re going?” a sharp voice rang out. He flinched at the sound. Izumi Curtis levelled him with an unimpressed glare as he shrunk at her gaze. She let go of his shirt and grinned. “Miss me?” 

“Teacher…” Ed grumbled. It was just his luck that his childhood martial arts master was the new gym teacher, “Why’re you here? Don’t you live in Dublith? Couldn’t you have taught at South City High instead?!”

“Don’t take that tone with me, Edward, Sig’s starting up a new shop.”   
  


“What about the shop in Dublith?”

“Mason can run it fine on his own, it’s also easier to transport meat this way, our last couple lamb shipments never came through. We’re only here for a year, though.”

“Perfect…” The bell rang at that moment. And the last of the students shuffled in.

“Listen up!” Teacher barked, all the students snapped to attention at the loud noise, “I am Izumi Curtis, your Phys Ed teacher! Get changed, if you ordered a new gym uniform follow me.”

* * *

On the very first day Teacher made them run five kilometers without break. Ed was certain at least two kids lost their breakfast.

* * *

By the time lunch came around, Ed was ready to jump off the roof. That being said, the training power washed into Ed’s brain by Teacher would likely make it so he would get a few bruises at most. He relayed this all to Winry as they searched for a seat in the rapidly filling cafeteria. They snagged a couple seats near the middle, between the jocks and the band kids. 

“Solaris called me “far too senseless for her liking”, as if! I am full of senses!” Jean Havoc was complaining loudly to his friends. Ed tried to tune them out to no avail. He was extraordinarily loud. Sadly. 

At the entrance of the cafeteria, Al was standing searching for his brother. 

“ALPHONSE!” Ed hollered over Winry’s head, and waved him over. He could feel eyes on him. Maybe a bit too loud? Once in range Al let out a loud sigh.

“Sorry, my brother’s  _ really _ loud,” he apologized to the next table over. Ed scowled.

“You don’t say?” Roy Mustang responded, with a slightly amused look on his face. Ed flipped him off and dragged Al to sit next to him. 

“What block do you have gym?” he asked eagerly. 

“5th,” Al replied, the same moment Winry said, “7th.”

“I heard we have a new gym teacher, who is it?” Al continued on, taking his thermos out of his bookbag and unscrewing the lid.

“Al, it’s  _ Teacher _ .” Ed was pretty sure Al choked on his soup while Winry’s eyes widened.

“Ms. Izumi? Really? Doesn’t she live in Dublith though?” Winry questioned.

“Yeah, she said some shit about how they’re here to better shipments and finding out where their sheep went to, and she and Sig are only staying for this year.” The rest of the lunch was spent sharing what they did in their various classes.

“Say, what are your electives, Al?” 

“Oh yeah, I’m taking Xingese and Art.”

“Art?” Ed exclaimed, “Why  _ Art _ ??”

“The teacher’s nice! And I thought it would be fun… besides I’m not the one taking  _ Drama _ .” Ed scoffed and looked away. Winry sniggered.

“Seems fitting.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

After the half hour passed Ed left the cafeteria and climbed up the stairs for Biology with a “Mr. Tucker”. It wasn’t as though he actually needed it, seeing as he and Al had learned basically the entire curriculum on their own years ago, but it was needed if he wanted to study chemistry in school.

He looked up and a fist the size of his head was heading straight for his nose. At the last second Ed turned his head and the punch caught him on his cheek, sending him flying back down the stairs and landing on someone behind him.

“ _ **WHAT THE FU-**_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to create a cliffhanger/tension but I think I failed, let me know if you liked it, hated it, or found things wrong with it. Feedback is appreciated, thanks :)


	2. Don't Want Your Pie, Asshole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed's pissed and Mustang really isn't helping, Al and Winry think the opposite.

“ ** _WHAT THE FU-_** ” 3 voices yelled at once. The first, “WHAT THE FUCK, SLOTH?” was King Bradley’s enraged yell.

“Are you  _ trying _ to take my head off??” he snapped at his counterpart, a large and hulking boy named ‘Sloth’. 

The second, “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT??” Edward screamed at the two figures at the top of the staircase. He could practically feel a bruise blooming to replace the bright red mark on his cheek. “YOU COULD’VE BROKEN MY NOSE, ASSHOLE!”

And the third, “WHAT THE FUCK??” Roy Mustang had been the unlucky student that had become the cushion for Ed, slamming into the wall behind him. Riza Hawkeye ran over and shoved Ed off of Mustang, quickly checking over his injuries. He scowled and glared at her behind turning to continue to scream up the staircase. “Sloth” and “Wrath” were gone, but the yelling upstairs indicated where they were. Ed felt a growl at the back of his throat as a few students milled around and pointed at Mustang and him.

“Ed!” Winry cried and shoved someone away as she ran up to him, “Sorry, what happened??” 

“Sloth fucking punched me!” He winced as Winry’s fingers brushed over his cheek. Ed pushed away her hand and met her concerned gaze, “I’ll be fine.”

“You should go to the clinic, see if they can do anything!” 

“She’ll just give me a bandaid or something, I’ll be  _ fine _ .”

“Hey, you!” someone shoved at Ed’s shoulder and he turned to face Hawkeye, “Apologize to him!”

“For what?! ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you while I was falling down the stairs!’” He snapped at her. His comment drew out Hawkeye’s infamous cold glare and he returned it angrily. Ed turned and looked Mustang up and down, who raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I’m still waiting,” the irritating ass responded. 

“Brother!” Al’s voice sliced through the tense atmosphere. Ed looked past Mustang’s shoulder to see him pushing through to get to his side. He winced as he watched Al take in the bruise spreading across his face.

“You’re a football player, right? Get up and walk it off,” he said sharply and elbowed past him to meet Alphonse halfway. “C’mon Al, I’ll walk you to the gym.”

“W-wait, you’ll be late to class! What about your bruise??” Ed ignored his worried comments and the glare threatening to crack open the back of his head.

* * *

Needless to say, this was not the best day for Edward. He was out of his seat and halfway out the door when the final bell rang, brushing off the Drama teacher’s scolding. After gathering Winry and Al, he made a dash for the train station 3 blocks away from the school. 

“Ed, wait!” Winry huffed as she caught the back of his bookbag, “We said we’d get groceries for Granny, remember?” 

Edward stopped and let out a string of loud colorful curses that caught the attention of everyone within a 20 meter radius. He spun on his heel to make a right, finding the store at the end of the street. 

“Right!” he barked to Al and Winry, who was struggling to keep up to his pace, “divide and conquer! 10 minutes, sugar, fruit, and whatever other shit we need.”

Ed found himself scowling at the 6 bottles of milk that found itself in the basket grasped in Winry’s hand. She slapped him on the back of the head.

“Just because you’re hellbent on never growing doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t want to!” she admonished before marching over to the cashier sending scared glances in Edward’s direction. 

“Brother, your demon is leaking out,” Al stage whispered to him. He let out a loud sigh and let his head hang back, staring up at the bright ceiling of the supermarket. After a couple seconds he rubbed his eyes and cursed, ignoring the slight pain that came from touching his cheek. Ed looked back down to stare down the cans of corn in front of him as if they had offended him.

“Sorry, Al. It hasn’t been the best day,” he mumbled quietly. He let his shoulders relax as Al put a hand on his flesh arm and smiled. His own lips quirked up at the sight, Al’s smile was simply infectious, easy to pop up and even easier to spread.

Ed stepped over to pull out his wallet and to help pay and Al pulled a few cenz out of his back pocket and set in next to the rest. They packed all of their groceries into their book bags (Ed shoved the heavy bottles of milk into Winry’s) and left to hurry to the train station with only two extra bags to carry. 

“Next train to Resembool leaves in half an hour,” Al read off the sign, “should we stay here and wait?”

“Nah, I’m starving, let’s get something quick to eat on the train,” Ed suggested, and the other two quickly agreed. They let him lead the way, following his nose down the street led them to a small bakery.

“They have fresh sticky buns!” Al exclaimed excitedly, to which Ed countered: “Yeah, but apple pie, Al, apple pie!”

“Let’s get pie, we can bring some back to Granny,” Winry said, sending a sharp look to Ed. He pouted, he wouldn’t eat the  _ whole _ thing! Al let out a dramatic sigh.

“Fiiine, I’m out of cenz, though.” Winry handed the rest of her money to Ed, who threw open the door to the bakery. The three were assaulted with the wonder out scents inside, fresh baked bread and cinnamon in the air.

“Hi! What can I get for you?” A teenage girl at the counter greeted them cheerfully. They probably went to Jenkins High, on the other side of the city, seeing as Ed couldn’t recognize her. She had short brown hair and bright green eyes, her smile diminished slightly at the bruise taking up half his face but brightened right back up.

“Can I get an apple pie?”

“Slices? Or whole?”

“Whole.”

“Right! That’ll be 10,000 cenz, if you would.” Ed counted the bills and coins he had.  _ Shit _ . He was 520 cenz short from the total. 

“I- uh sorry, I don’t have enough. How much would 3 sticky buns be-“

“I’ll pay for it,” someone slapped 10,000 cenz onto the counter. Edward tilted his head back to see Roy fuckin Mustang reaching over his shoulder. The hell? 

“No thanks, Mustang, I don’t want a pie,” he said to the girl at the counter. He picked up the money on the table and shoved it back at Mustang. Mustang raised that stupid eyebrow.

“Alright then, Gracia, can I buy an apple pie?” Ed watched as he took the box and left the shop. What??

“Roy! Where are you going?” Somebody seated at a table next to the window called after him. Maes Hughes, if Ed remembered correctly, was a third year at East City High. Where  _ was _ he going? Ed stuffed his wallet back into his book bag and left the store in pursuit of Mustang. 

“Hey, bastard, what the hell-“ Ed stopped and stared. The door swung shut behind him. Al was holding a box, an apple pie box. Winry was blushing. And Mustang was standing before him, talking to them.

“We don’t want your goddamn pie, asshole!” Ed was VERY RUDELY cut off by Alphonse.

“YES, WE DO, thank you, Mustang. Now brother, the train’s leaving in five and we gotta go!” He grabbed Ed”s flesh arm and tugged him away from the bakery, and Mustang.

“Thank you, Mustang! Edward appreciates the pie, we’ll see you tomorrow!” Winry called, following after Ed and Al. 

“You’re welcome!” he called after them, and threw in a wink. Winry’s ears tinged pink. The fuck just happened. Ed threw a bird behind him before turning his attention to his brother, snarling at Al and pushing his hand off his arm.

“Alphonse!” He exclaimed, outraged, “what the hell?!”

“What’re you talking about? Roy Mustang just gifted us a pie, you should really be grateful, brother!” Al smiled “innocently” at him. Ed glared at him for a moment and then huffed loudly. 

“He’s going to want something in return, you know.” 

“Must you always be so cynical?” He sighed. They boarded the train and set down all their bags on the bench. Ed glanced at Winry, whose face was still tinted pink.

“What with you?” He eyed her warily. She gave a happy sigh.

“Roy Mustang! He’s so hot, and kind!” Ed rolled his eyes at her. Girls. Sure, Winry hung with the Elrics but that didn’t mean she wasn’t like the rest of them.

“Don’t see what’s so great ‘bout him,” he grumbled as he opened the box, the scent of apple pie wafted up at him and his entire body melted into the seat. Winry snatched the box from his hands.

“Don’t drool on the pie!” She snapped, “And wasn’t he so nice? Buying us a pie and all, after you fell on him too! And even  _ you _ can’t deny he’s not hot, he’s one of the best looking guys in our year!”

“Right- can we stop talking about this?” Al interjected as Ed opened his mouth to snark at Winry. “Well, speaking of: who was the one that punched you?”

Ed stuffed half a piece of pie down his throat, letting out a loud moan. Al slapped a hand over his mouth and glared at him.

“Sorry!” He called to the attention the exclamation had garnered. Ed swallowed the rest of the pie and managed a somewhat sheepish look.

“He was part of a group that call themselves ‘the Seven Sins’” Winry piped up, “they’re basically a gang, they’re the bad guys of the school, essentially. Stay away from them, Al.”

“Yeah, they all gave themselves stupid nicknames, King Bradley, he’s a fourth year, is ‘Wrath’, he basically leads the group. He has this eyepatch since he lost his eye in a train accident or something as a kid. Then there’s ‘Sloth’, the one who punched me, I can’t remember his actual name but I think he’s a third year. He’s basically the thug, beats everyone up, you could probably take him in a fight, Al. He’s super strong and stuff but he’s dumb as bricks. Dunno how he even got into East City High. There’s ‘Lust‘, I think her name is Solaris or something? I don’t know much about her but people say she’s is a slut,” Ed reached for another slice of pie and Winry picked up where he left off.

“Then there’s ‘Envy’, his head is like a palm tree, now that I think about it.” Ed snorted at the description, “He’s really rude and gets a whole lot of detentions, I’ve only spoken to him twice and he just called me a cow. ‘Pride’ is a kid called Salem, I don’t know what his deal is but he looks super young, like elementary young but he’s actually a senior, I’ve heard that he’s the most dangerous, even if he doesn’t look it.”

“What about Greed and Gluttony?”

“Well, I think they formed the group sometime in junior high, and this kid split from them as soon as they hit high school, I don't know if they have a new ‘Greed’ yet, though. He’s in his last year right now, and he kind of formed his own gang with a bunch of second and third years. I think they abducted some junior high kid and made him ‘Gluttony’, he might be in your year, Al,” Winry smacked his hand away when he reached for a third slice. Rude. He patted Al on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, they shouldn’t give you any trouble as long as you don’t piss off ‘Envy’, the others don’t care too much, they ditch a lot,” he passed on what he knew to Al, who hopefully wouldn’t make the same mistake he did. As he was, Ed was the most hot headed out of the three, and tended to get into fights due to his quick mouth. 

When the train rolled into Resembool they hopped off and ran back to the house, Al reaching it first and throwing open the door.

“Granny!” Ed hollered, “we’re home!” 

Den barked at them and Ed reached down to scratch his head. Granny emerged from the back room, pipe in her mouth.

“Did you get the groceries?” She asked, making her way over to them.

“Yup! And we brought some pie for you, too!” Al said as she noticed Ed’s cheek.

“First day and already getting into fights? Getting hit isn’t going to make you taller, you know.”

“Who you calling so short that people have to stoop down just to hit, miniature hag?!” He growled. They bickered as Winry and Alphonse unpacked their bags and loaded up the pantry. Winry ducked into the patient room and pulled out some ointment out of the closet. Ed barely noticed her feather light touch on his cheek and focused all his energy into screaming at Granny Pinako.

He was still seething when Al dragged him upstairs into their room after dinner. Ed let Al guide him through their nightly routine as he continued to rant.

“Who does she think she is? Calling me short, as if she isn’t the size of a dwarf!” He grumbled. Ed kicked off his pants and pulled his jacket off, throwing it at the ground. In another motion his shirt was off too. He yanked his hair out of its braid and shook it loose. He winced as he detached his leg a bit too roughly, setting a shock of pain through his nerves. “Al, can you help me with my arm?”

His brother padded over and reached for the latch on his back, with a small pop it came off and he laid it gently on Ed’s desk. Ed wrestled on a black tank top one armed and Al switched off the lamp. 

“G’night, brother.”

“Night, Al,” Ed muttered, already half asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mustang is nice... kinda? The homunculi won't be around that much but they interact a fair bit with the character. Feedback is appreciated, thanks :)


	3. Late, Turned Fashionable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed gains a ridiculous red cloak and Winry braids his hair.

The second day started similarly to the first, Al prodding Edward until he was awake. He pried open his eyes and stared at Al who stared back until he let out a loud groan and sat up.  _ Fuck he had to take a shower today _ . 

“Arm,” his voice came out rough and deep, and he coughed until the mucus in his throat disappeared. Ed latched on his arm and let Al steady him as he walked to the bathroom on one leg. In the corner of his eye he saw Al snag the leg laying on the floor. 

Ed tugged on a waterproof sleeve onto his arm and leg port. Automail wasn’t supposed to get wet, much less the port. It tended to rust when in contact with water and if having two prosthetics wasn’t a pain in itself, showering with two was even worse. On one leg too (he didn’t like talking about it, Winry found it hilarious). 

Al wiped down his leg while he soaped up and then helped him wash his hair. When he got out, he detached his arm once more so Al could clean that while he dressed and dried his hair. Ed attached both limbs with a wince, the jolt shaking him awake. To save time he brushed his teeth while Al climbed into the shower next. 

Is Winry up yet? Ed wondered as he spat into the basin, she should have coffee ready by now, right? 

Ed exited the bathroom and strode over to the closet to pick out Al’s clothes, as Al did for him. He gathered the clothes he had discarded the previous night and returned to the bathroom to get Al’s dirty clothing. 

“Ed! Al! Hurry up, you’re running late!” Winry called from downstairs.

He descended down the stairs to find Granny had already made breakfast and Winry was dressed and eating. Ed glanced over at the grandfather clock sitting at the end of the room and started panicking at the time. Shit, his shower had run too long. Cursing under his breath, he ran to the laundry room and dumped his and Al’s clothes in, running back up to yell at Al.

“Alphonse!” he pounded on the door, calling to his brother inside, “We’ve gotta hurry or we’re going to miss the train!” 

Ed tripped over Al’s bag on the floor as he scrambled around their room gathering his things. His hair was still wet, he could braid it later. He threw around papers on his desk to find an elastic and snapped one onto his wrist. Fuck he took a shower. He spotted the oil on the ground and snatched it up, he could do it on the train. Alphonse flew out of the bathroom, hair still dripping wet, and shoved a notebook into his bag before hightailing it down the stairs. Edward followed suit and dropped into a seat at the table to inhale a few pieces of toast.

He gave a slight grin, Al had learned that when he said “we’re going to be late”, it actually meant, “holy fuck shit Winry’s actually going to kill me the train leaves in like five minutes”. 

“I should just leave you here and get on the train by myself,” Winry grumbled as she picked up her bookbag. Ed quickly poured himself and Al a cup of coffee before throwing the sandwich Granny made into his bag haphazardly. It was probably going to be squished by the time lunch came around but thE TRAIN. 

The three sprinted to the station, and made it in the record time just before the doors shut. Luckily, the train conductor spotted them and yelled for the operators to hold a door. They leapt onto the train and Mr. Bushell grinned at them on the other side of the door.

“You’re cutting it a bit close, nearly missed it there,” he then swung the door closed and backed away as the train started up. They panted as they collapsed into the closest seats.

“Ya’know, Winry,” Ed huffed, “it would help if you didn’t wear those ridiculously high boots.”

Winry scowled at him and stuck out her tongue, “As if  _ leather pants _ are much better!”

Al just rolled his eyes and gave him a pointed look so he dropped it. Yeah, Ed probably shouldn’t tease her. Seeing as he needed to oil his joints. He made a face at the thought. It could wait till later. 

Later turned into ten minutes before school started and it was supposed to take fifteen to oil the automail. 

“Edward Elric, what the hell?!” Winry yelled at him when he asked for her help. Steam was practically billowing out of her ears as her face turned red. She snatched the little funnel out of his hand and pulled out two crappier ones out of her bag. “Al, help me oil his arm. Do your leg yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ed grimaced. Yeah maybe this wouldn’t be the best idea. Winry dragged him into the boy’s bathroom and locked the door after checking there wasn’t anyone in the stalls. She stripped him down to his boxers, sat him on the ground, and then went to work. 

Miraculously, they made it. And only 3 minutes late, too. However, Ed couldn’t wear the faux skin since he oiled it literally 2 seconds ago. Which resulted in him practically begging Teacher to exclude him from gym. 

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow when he meekly asked to be excused from the class.

“First, you show up late, and now you want to skip training?” Huh,  _ training _ . That would be how she phrased it? Wasn’t this class just so Amestris could lower their obesity rates? “As if! You are not skipping, Edward.”

“Then can I wear my jacket, at least?” And so, Edward was running five kilometers wearing a ridiculous red cape jacket that Teacher had thrown at him. Emblazoned with her flamel on the back, of course. Jokes on her, Ed  _ rocked _ the red! He looked great in it. He flaunted it as he sprinted past everyone and sat down within 20 minutes and was among the first to return to where Teacher stood glaring at everyone. 

She gave a snort at the sight of Edward, cheeks flushed and hair messy, but hands on his hips proudly displaying her flamel. His face wore a shit-eating grin and she grinned right back.

“You’ve gotten out of shape. You used to be able to do it in 15.”

“Hah!” he scoffed, but gave no comment. He must be getting old, taxes would start coming right and left and he would grow obese at a nine to five desk job and return home to Al and their three cats he picked off the streets. Teacher ordered him to get a drink and he happily obliged, returning to the main building.

Gym was already over and he was on his way to Algebra 2 when he realised that he was still wearing the red cape that Teacher had given to him as a joke. So he chose the only option: wear it proud and bold. For the rest of the day, he swished the jacket around, flipping the tail dramatically as he turned corners.The bright red color was eye catching and in-your-face, which was perfect for him, and many recognized the flamel as the one Teacher had tattooed onto her chest.

His fourth block, Advanced World History, was spent watching some third year, Vato Falman, lecture the class about inaccurate recounts of history while the teacher cowered behind his desk. The kid was practically a walking encyclopaedia. 

Afterwards came lunch, where Winry promptly informed him that he looked like birds were trying to take his hair for a nest. Or maybe built a nest  _ in _ his hair. Thus, he was stuck staring at the back of Roy Mustang’s head while Winry rebraided his hair. Al was being extremely unhelpful, telling him to just thank Mustang and sticking bits of a plastic fork in his hair, forcing Winry to restart. 

(“Keep them in!” Ed insisted, “It’ll look badass!” “No, they won't, you'll just end up scratching your head and bleeding everywhere.” “Which is badass!” Ed exclaimed. Winry shook her head and picked the fork pieces out.)

Al had then taken to staring at Mustang’s head for him while he bickered with Winry in hopes of forcing him to turn around eventually. Which he did, while Ed was holding both of Winry’s wrists, screaming in her face, hair loose and fork pieces tangled in it. He probably looked like he escaped an insane asylum. Which was pretty likely, considering the state his hair was in.

“Did you need something, Elric?” Ed turned to see Al talking to Mustang. He shot a glare at him and let go of Winry’s wrists. 

“Yeah, my brother had something to say to you!” Both of them turned expectantly to Ed, who crossed his arms defensively.

“What?”

“You had something to say to Mustang, didn’t you, Edward?” Winry joined in,  _ not helping! _

“Yeah yeah, whatever thanks for the pie,” he grumbled. He noticed Mustang’s eyes scan him over. “Eyes up here, asshole.”

“Glad to know you’ve been paying attention to my ass.” Ed sputtered and flushed. The hell was wrong with this guy??

He let out an amused cough, “Interesting style you got there.”

“Damn right it is! And I look fucking fabulous in it!” with that Ed spun back around and effectively ended the conversation. Al rolled his eyes and turned around as well. 

“You didn’t have to be so rude about it!” he hissed, Winry took a hold of Ed’s shoulder and forced him right back to staring at Mustang, who now had Hawkeye and Havoc looking at them too. He made a face as Winry muttered darkly and continued to braid his hair.

“Fine! Bleed out, see if I care!” Ed laughed victoriously but when he caught Mustang’s gaze his expression dropped. He was so irritating. Yes, he bought a pie and had been nothing but nice even though Ed fell on him, but just his general air was the ‘I’m better than you and though I don’t show it you can see me silently judging you’ thing. Ed didn’t like Havoc’s curious look over Mustang’s shoulder and lifted his foot to shove Mustang’s knee and forcefully turn him around.

“Hair tie,” Winry demanded as she shoved her hand in Ed’s hand. He placed it in her hand and she finished off his braid with a loud huff. Ed felt it to find the fork pieces still tangled in and flashed her a smile.

“Thanks, Win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did Roy Mustang justice, and Ed still has a horrible sense of style. This is sort of a "filler" chapter, but I hope you like it. Or hated it, I want to know. Feedback is appreciated, thanks :)


	4. Fuck Off, Mustang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed notices Mustang constantly approaching him and runs away. Later on he discovers that he's grown and needs new automail.

Roy Mustang shared a lot of classes with Edward, he realised over the next week. 4 out of his 7 blocks were with him, being in advanced classes and in the same year level and all. Phys Ed, Advanced World History, Biology, and Drama. It was about 4 classes too many. 

  


So when Ed noticed Mustang approaching him from the other side of the gym, he dropped his conversation with Russell Tringham and headed straight into Teacher’s office to avoid him (if he was even heading to talk to Edward). Which didn’t work that well when he also shared his fourth block with him. Edward immediately excused himself to go to the bathroom when he noticed Mustang tried to get his attention. And lunch, where he managed to convince Winry and Al to eat in the band room, even though none of them were actually in the band. And fifth block, where he just fucking screamed and bolted in the midst of the confusion. Lastly, they had seventh block together. Luckily they were doing group work that week, something about creating a radio talk show project. 

  


When he saw Roy Mustang making a beeline toward him at the end of the day, Ed sprinted out the door, tapped Al and grabbed a hold of Winry’s arm as he sped past. He glanced behind him as he ducked under a student’s outstretched arm, and saw Mustang still pursuing him. Can’t he just fuck off already? Take a hint!

  


While he was looking behind him he bumped into someone.

  


“Oh, sorry- wait no perfect!” he exclaimed. The girl turned irritated as she stared down at him. Solaris, also known as ‘Lust’ due to her assets, opened her mouth to retort and he grabbed her and shoved her toward Mustang. He heard her indignant shriek turn into fawning as she started flirting with him. Ed turned to meet Al and Winry’s questioning gaze and brushed it off, opting to escape while he still could.

  


“What the he- oh, hey Roy! You missed my call yesterday…” Ed tuned out as they reached the front doors of East City High. He slowed down once they reached the main street, and started laughing. It worked like a charm!. He caught Al and Winry’s exchanged a look. 

  


“Is he going crazy?” Winry stage whispered to Al.

  


“He already was, I think this is pushing insanity,” he returned and Ed started walking backward to face the two of them, still grinning. 

  


“The bastard’s been trying to talk to me all day,” he explained, sidestepping a lamp post on the side of the street. He continued to walk backwards as Al made a face at him.

  


“Brother, you didn’t have to  _ run _ , you could’ve just heard him out!” 

  


“Yeaaaah, but I don’t want to!” Ed nearly fell on his back as he stepped off the curb. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants and met Al’s exasperated sigh.

  


“You do know he’ll probably try tomorrow, right? And the day after?” 

  


“Then I get creative! I’ll annoy him to the point that he gives up on me! Bastard must have a limit, right?” Winry sighed and shook her head.

  


“And you wonder why people don’t like you…”

  


“No, I wonder why people like him!”

  


They reached the train station and sat on a bench while they waited for the Resembool train, munching on the snacks Al had remembered to pack. 

  


“Aren’t you even a little bit curious about what he wanted to talk to you about?” Winry asked, standing up and brushing off her skirt.

  


“Nah,” Ed responded, shoving the last of his granola bar into his mouth, “If I can avoid him tomorrow, then the weekend’s free!” 

  


* * *

  


The plan worked. Somewhat. He did manage to avoid Mustang for the day, but in Drama he shoved a desk at him and very obviously ran out the door.

  


“I have good news and bad!” he announced to Al and Winry while they were waiting for the train to Resembool, “good news: I managed to thwart the bastard once more!”

  


“Yay…” Al cheered sarcastically.

  


“Shush, Al, and the bad news: he now knows I’m running from him!”

  


“Hah! Like he couldn’t tell before!” Winry laughed. Ed huffed and shoved her as she stepped onto the train. 

  


Once they were off the train and headed back home, Ed and Al sat in their room and finally sat down to organize it. 

  


“Where the fuck did some of this stuff come from??” Ed questioned incredulously. He was holding ‘Introduction to Basic Fruit Peeling’, “I sure as hell didn’t buy this!”

  


“Oh, sorry! That’s mine,” Al reached over and plucked the book out of Ed’s hands, “it’s supposed to be a gift for Granny.”

  


“What.”

  


“Nothing!” 

  


* * *

  


Ed managed to unearth three screws from underneath his bed. Were they from his automail? Hopefully not, but he should probably get Winry to check it over later. Along with the screws there was a five page essay in his closet that was due two days ago, a book on table etiquette Winry had given him that he had apparently shoved into Al’s bed frame.

  


“HEY WIN!” he hollered down the hall, and she poked her head out of her room.

  


“YOU DON’T GOTTA SCREAM!” she yelled back. Ed rolled his eyes and walked down the hall with the screws in hand. 

  


“Can you check my automail? I found these under my bed and I don’t know where they came from,” he requested, handing them to her.

  


“Mm, Granny!” she called down the stairs, “Ed wants to check his automail!”

  


Granny called back confirmation and something Ed didn’t catch but Winry informed him that they could do it over the weekend.

  


“Alphonse,” Ed called, returning to his room.

  


“Yeah?” 

  


“Can you teach me Xingese?”

  


“What? Why?”

  


“I’m bored.” 

  


Al let out a huff-laugh, and threw a dictionary at him, which he ducked and let hit the wall behind him.

  


“We’ll take over the world before we’re 20! Sure, why not, not like there’s not much else to do.” 

  


With their room now tidied up, they spread all their work across their desks and breezed through their homework within half an hour.

  


“So, the only Xingese content I have is this workbook, but we could go to the library and get some Xingese books, if you want?”

  


“Sure, but what’ve you learned so far?”

  


“Well, the Xingese don’t really have letters like we do, they have these things called ‘characters’, like small drawings to represent words…” 

  


Afternoon slowly faded into evening quicker than Ed would have liked, but he was starving and Granny had made stew that night.

  


“-someone from in town is coming in for his 3 month check up, so I want you two out of the house,” Granny was saying to Ed and Al, “I’ll do a general check up on your automail this evening, Ed, and tomorrow I’ll give you a substitute leg so you boys can go to the market.”

  


“Alright, how long will my automail take?” Ed asked in between mouthfuls of soup. 

  


“We’ll see depending on the state of it.” He helped clear up the table with Al while. Granny and Winry set up the living room for Ed. He plopped down on the couch after washing the dishes and left Al to dry and organize them. 

  


Ed stared up at the ceiling. It was supposed to be white, but after years it had dulled a bit to a greyish color. The paint was chipping where it met the corners of the room. There was also a small hole if you looked hard enough where he had once launched a dart while taunting Winry.

  


“You’ve grown,” Granny Pinako announced after measuring his leg, “2.5 centimeters.” 

  


Edward pumped his left arm in the air and whooped, “You hear that Al? I’m growing!”

  


"Nothin' to brag about, you're still the size of a carrot," Granny grumbled. Ed lost his victorious grin and scowled at her.  


  


“Your arm needs a slight tune up, too,” Winry noted, bending the elbow and rotating the wrist around, “can you flex your fingers for me?” 

  


Ed did as he was told and sulked, growing was _growing_ , damn it!

  


“We might need to make the arm and leg from scratch,” Granny noted, “do you want them built or just deconstruct part of these and adjust them?”

  


He weighed the options, on one hand he could get better automail, but business wasn’t too good right now and that meant importing parts could cost a lot of money. Just readjusting his current meant it would take less time, too. “Can you just reconstruct the automail I already have? I can go with some substitute for a few days.”

  


Winry nodded and detached his limbs, “I’m going to check your ports next, I might touch a few exposed nerves, though.”

  


“That’s fine, Granny, do you have an automail leg that could fit me?”

  


“Well, there’s some prototypes. This’ll take three days to readjust so you’d have to go to school on a half baked product.”

  


“I’ll be fine, it’s only- OW! Holy hell, Winry! Warn me next time!” Ed snapped at her, and she brandished her wrench menacingly. He looked away and watched Granny disappear into the workshop with his arm and leg as Al emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dishrag.

  


“Status report?”

  


“Arm and leg need to be readjusted, I’ll be going with a prototype leg on Monday.”

  


“What about your arm?” 

  


“What about- oh wait yeah. GRANNY WHAT AM I GOING TO DO ABOUT MY ARM?” he yelled.

  


“How do you just forget you’re missing an arm??” Winry exclaimed. 

  


“Do you want one?” Granny asked when she came back with another leg, “We only have prosthetics, though, no arms of automail.”

  


“That’ll be fine, as long as I can use it.”

  


“Attach these then, as see how well they work. The leg might be a big too long, with your height and all.”

  


“HEY! Who you calling so small that no automail would ever fit?!”

  


“No one, brother,” Al sighed as he helped connect the nerves on the new leg. He stood up and stomped on the ground a bit to test the strength and mobility. When Winry attached the prosthetic it felt oddly… empty. Ed couldn’t really do anything beyond bending the elbow and clenching the fist. He rolled his shoulder and grimaced at the arm.

  


“Three days, right?”

  


“Three days,” Winry promised with a sympathetic pat to his knee. He pouted and detached the arm.

  


“I don’t want the arm,” he grumbled, “But I kind of need one for school… fucking hell.”

  


“Just wear that ridiculous cloak thing, you’re so small it-” Ed snarled at her to cut her off. 

  


“The eyesore would draw away any attention and cover anything that seems out of place,” she amended.

  


Ed scrunched up his face, “Fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think Mustang wants? Like it? Hate it? I would love feedback! Thanks for all the kudos and wonderful comments :)


	5. Market Fun (?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Al go to the market, as a result Ed gets real pissy.

Ed slept in until Winry had to smack his head to get him up for lunch. He swatted away her hand and sat up, looking around for Al. He was sitting at his desk writing in a notebook with a slight grin on his face.

“Traitor…” Ed mumbled, scratching his head as he stared up at Winry, who was standing impatiently with a hand on her cocked hip.

“You’ve got to go to the market, remember? You have to stop by your house, too, the tomatoes should be ripe for picking, and Granny said she left the squash in a bucket next to the sink,” Winry instructed as she dug out some pants to throw at Ed. He tugged them on and raked his fingers through his hair. She always told him it was gorgeous and how envious she was of it. Personally, he couldn’t really see why but she could rant for ages about his golden hair and how thick and nice it was.

Al combed out his hair while he brushed his teeth and Winry went back to work on his automail. 

“C’mon, we can take it with us,” Al shoved a piece of sausage into Ed’s mouth and grabbed a plate to take with them. They climbed up the hill and fell quiet at the sight of their house. It was large, bigger than the Rockbell’s, and very, very empty. Standing at the front you could see the outskirts from town from there, as well as the orchards in the south. 

Alphonse unlocked the door and left Ed standing at the entrance.

“Why’re you going inside?”

“I think I saw that Dad had some books in Xingese, I figured it would help, having actual practice with the language.” Ed glowered at the ground and kicked a rock but he stayed quiet. He walked around to the back of the house, ducking under the old clothesline and spotting the bucket filled with squash. The bucket clanged against his calf as he picked it up and he handed it off to Al, who came out the back of the house with several journals tucked under his arm. There was a little garden that Mom had kept, half hidden behind a tree filled with tomatoes and green beans. It was useful on market days, to trade with other people for fruit and vegetables. Al fetched a little basket from the kitchen and handed it to Ed, who filled it up with cherry, roma, and better boy tomatoes. 

Al knelt beside him, checking on the beans and watering all the plants. He left Ed’s side to go water the potted plants around the house, though most had died off long ago.

The market was in the center of town, along the main street. At some point the people in Resembool had established an unspoken agreement that Saturday would be the day to shop and trade for food. Occasionally merchants would come through Resembool and set up their own stalls, selling food and goods from other cities, and even possibly countries (the town had been festive for weeks following the Xingese merchants that came through when Ed and Al were around 3 or 4). 

The first stop for the Elrics was definitely the butcher’s stall, who they bought lamb from (not like there were any other animals here). Afterwards they made stops to several fruit stalls, trading tomatoes for apples and peaches, and squash for strawberries. They bought cabbage and lettuce from Ms. Schol, the lady that managed the ticket booth at the train stations, celery and spinach from Mr. Wan (who smuggled people out of Amestris to Xing, but we don’t talk about that). 

* * *

They spent the better part of four hours at the market, Al insisting on making polite conversation with the people in town, and when they returned they were laden with meats, greens, and lots of fruit. Ed was officially done, his social quota was fulfilled and overflowing, and his leg port was aching for some reason. 

He made the trek back to the Rockbell’s house as Al took a detour to drop off the bucket and basket back to their old house. 

“‘M HOME!” he yelled so Winry and Granny could hear from a kilometer away.

“PIPE DOWN, PIPSQUEAK,” Granny hollered back. Ed dumped their finds onto the counter unceremoniously and began slamming all the cabinets while putting stuff away.

“What’s got you in such a pissy mood?” Winry frowned as she wiped her hands on an oil rag. He slammed the freezer shut as Al opened the front door.

“He spent an hour talking to Ms. Weatherby about her cats, she insisted on describing all of them with stunning detail,” Al smiled. Winry patted Ed’s arm and moved to take a look at the refrigerator. 

“Granny’s heating the metal right now so we’re in charge of dinner. Should we try making some noodles?”

“We have some leftover tomatoes from the market and I could use those for a sauce.”

“Alright! Ed, you’re in charge of meatballs.” The two started banging around the kitchen ignoring Ed’s moodiness. He pulled out some mutton and rummaged around for the blender thing that Winry made.

“Winry where’s that thing that like I don’t know fuckin’ chops up the meat super fast,” he pulled open the cabinet under the sink and glared at the soap sitting there.

“I don’t know, check the higher cabinets!”

“Who the hell uses those?? Granny isn’t even tall enough to see them!” he snapped before giving up and climbing onto the counter. There it was. Sitting there. Gleaming in the light. He cursed it with the power of a thousand suns.

“Get off the counter, brother.” 

He leapt off with the blender choppy demon machine held securely in his grasp and hit the tiled floor with a soft thud. Followed immediately with slamming the thing onto the counter. Ed cracked an egg into the blender and set it on high. It was as if a thousand tortured souls were released from the gates of hell into the kitchen. He let his eardrums shatter and watched with satisfaction as Winry and Al slapped hands over their ears. Maybe they’d learn not to taunt him. After the lamb was ground he pulled out a chopping board and plopped the meat onto it. 

As Ed had learned with Sig, beating the devil out of meat was an excellent stress reliever, though the experience was somewhat dulled by only having one arm, but Al’s scared look more than made up for it. He dumped the parsley and oregano Winry chopped up into the meat and continued to pound it with his fist. Salt and pepper followed and soon after Winry shoved him away to form the balls (‘I don’t know how likely you are not to stab me,’ she had said). 

So now, he was vigorously rubbing soap on his hand. And trying to figure out how to wash it off. Then Ed spent the next fifteen minutes breathing down Al’s neck while the meatballs baked in the oven.

“Stop terrorising Al.” haha Winry was so done with his bullshit. She grabbed a hold of his arm and shoved a handful of silverware into his hand. “Set up the table.”

Ed was fairly sure everyone absolutely hated him now, but that was fine. Oh wait no, Winry was the one working on his automail- yeah maybe pissing everyone off wasn’t the best idea. He toned down the attitude and instead focused all his energy to stabbing the meatball that seemed too spherical. Al and Granny were arguing about painting while Winry chimed in with an occasional thought.

“We should paint your arm!” she exclaimed excitedly. Ed rolled his eyes and snagged a meatball off Winry’s plate with his fork. He stuffed it in his mouth before she could do anything. 

“Alright,” Granny called with a slight smile, “Edward, Alphonse, you’re in charge of washing up, Winry let’s get back to work.”

Ed couldn’t  _ wait _ until the automail was finished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kinda sucks ngl. Percy Weasley's wife? Maybe. Bob Ross? Definitely. Let me know what you think! Thanks :)


	6. Team Mustang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mustang catches Ed while he's disabled.

Ed couldn’t wait until the automail was finished. He tugged at the empty red sleeve anxiously, drawing Winry’s eyes to it, “Are you sure it’s not done right now??”

“‘Work in Progress’ means incomplete, Edward!” she swatted at the hand he had clenched around the red fabric, “If it bothers you so much, then use the prosthetic!”

Yeah… no. He would rather no arm than a useless one, it would just weigh him down. He stuffed the sleeve into the pockets of his pants and adjusted the book bag on his shoulder, half hiding his “arm”.

“Yeah, it’s barely noticeable!” Al encouraged as they left the house, “‘sides, it’s just one day, isn’t it?”

Edward ignored them in favor of planning out every scenario in his head. The worst of them was probably having Teacher first thing in the morning, she could probably see through anything he fabricated. Then there was the possibly ‘Envy’, who never seemed satisfied with Ed, whether it was his “bean like stature” or his “rats nest of gold”. At most he would just throw a few books at Ed and out him to the whole school, not that bad… right? Then again, if he just ditched class no one would ever know. Besides Al. Al always knew.

Speaking of Al, he was leaning against his side, asleep, while Ed stared out the window at the rapidly changing scenery as the train slid along the tracks. Winry was fiddling with a screw in her hand. He wrapped his arm around Al. He’d go armless to school if it meant Al was safe. 

The train was quiet, the only people around them were students from the other two stops on their way to East City. One was snoring loudly near the front, there was still a good 20 minutes until they arrived. 

The 20 minutes passed by quickly, and Ed was sorry to have to wake him. He looked so peaceful, chest rising and falling without struggle. Al’s immune system was the weakest among the lot of them, and got sick easily.

“Hey Al, we’re here,” he gently pushed him up.

Al’s eyes slowly opened and he let out a yawn before standing up and stretching, “Train benches are the worst.”

Winry handed him his bag and Ed swung it onto his shoulder before stepping off the train to join the gathering crowd in East City Station. 

“Do you guys want to go to the Fall Carnival?” Winry asked as they strode down the sidewalk.

“Obviously! I would never pass down free food, and the prizes aren’t bad either,” Ed responded. The Fall Carnival was a Resembool tradition, to celebrate the passing of summer, not that anyone wanted it to end, but it was for the kids. Everyone in town gathered to decorate and set up stalls with games and food to share. That and the Spring Sheep Festival were the two highlights of the year in Resembool.

“You were quite eager to return that apple pie to Mustang, if I recall,” Al teased, elbowing him in the side. 

“Just you wait till I beat your ass, Al,” Ed retorted and Al raised a challenging eyebrow.

“Still waiting for that to happen.”

Ed hated the one eyebrow raise his brother had perfected. He had tried (to Winry’s great amusement), yet he could never get his face muscles to cooperate with him. He made a face with those face muscles and stuck his tongue out at Al.

“Your arm!” Winry interjected, a lightbulb seemed to light up over her head, “I was serious the other night, we could paint your arm, Ed!” 

“Oh hell yeah!” Ed agreed, “It would look badass, but what’s the point if no one can see it?”

“No one at school’s going to care if you have an automail arm.”

“Element of surprise, never lose the upper hand!” Ed barked, mocking Teacher. It was one of her hundreds of lessons, Al laughed at the sharp tone Ed adopted.

“Quite right!” the brothers froze while Winry started silently laughing at them. Teacher strode up behind them and stopped them in their tracks.

“Followed by?”

“Cover your tracks, you may know your weaknesses, but your enemies don’t,” the two recited together. Teacher glanced at Ed and squinted. He shifted uncomfortably and attempted to turn and hide the empty sleeve. She caught on immediately at the movement and seized his shoulder.

“You’re missing an arm.”

Oh shit.

“...yes, I am,” He caught his bottom lip with his teeth and chewed nervously. Damn it. The school day hasn't even started and she already knew. Ed really  _ was  _ losing his touch. Teacher gave him a hard stare before grabbing Ed and Al by their arms and dragging them to the gym.

“Uh- see you later, Winry!” Al managed. Teacher threw the two of them into her office and slammed the door shut behind her before crossing her arms.

“You’re limping, too. Explain,” she demanded. Ed got Al’s look and nodded.

“U-um, well Brother and I-, we, Mom got sick and- well, after Dad, we, wait no- it started with-” Al spluttered. Teacher’s impatience was oozing out of her.

“Mom died,” Ed said shortly, staring a hole into the small window in Teacher’s office, on the other side was the gym where a few students milled around, chatting before the bell rang. Mustang was lounging on the bleachers next to a blonde boy, Ed could only see the back of his head. A few girls were a row behind him, giggling and covering their mouths. Teacher was silent.

“She was sick, and wanted to have a last vacation with us, she rented a car just for it,” Al continued on, “It was, uh, great. On the way back, someone crashed straight into our car. It hit the passenger side and flipped a few times, andI think she could have survived but she was really sick and weak, that took her life. I was on the passenger side in the back seat but Brother dove over me and blocked the worst of it with his arm.”

Ed reached down and pulled up his pant leg to reveal the prototype automail, “My leg was crushed and the bones shattered, so they had to amputate it right under the knee. My arm was cut from holding up the roof of the car and it got infected, so they had to cut it off up the shoulder.”

He tugged off the red coat to reveal the black t-shirt he was wearing underneath, scar tissue creeping up his neck. Ed tugged the shirt aside to reveal the shoulder port hidden underneath the black fabric. Teacher stared. 

“My stupid, stupid pupils,” she muttered. A second later she seized them around the head into a hug. They stayed like that for a while in the quiet before she cleared her throat.

“The bell rings in two minutes, Al, get to class.” 

He nodded and a sad smile slid on his face, “See you at lunch, Brother.”

Ed waved and then he flinched at the sudden large presence behind him. Teacher’s eyes were practically glowing as she loomed over him. 

“WHY THE HELL DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?” 

* * *

For that, he was forced to sit on the bench for the block next to Teacher who yelled at him between criticizing the students’ running forms. (“Can’t you just focus on teaching??” Ed complained. “I’m multitasking!”)

“LEAN FORWARD, NOT BACK! THIS IS BASIC FORM, HOW DO YOU NOT GET IT??” she screamed. Ed covered his face with his hand in embarrassment.

“Hey, Teach!” Havoc called, Mustang at his side, as they ran by, “How come Elric gets to sit out?”

“Because he’s a dumbass that could lap you all in a split second,” she replied, sending another withering glare to Ed who shriveled. He flipped off Mustang who very obviously tried not to laugh at him. Teacher smacked his hand down and turned back to Havoc who had a disbelieving look on his face.

“Idiot pupil, go lap them,” Teacher commanded, and Ed sent her a look.  _ What if they see my arm?  _ She sent one right back,  _ then you better be so fast you’re a blur _ . He rolled his eyes before standing up and stretching his calf. The students running around stopped and looked at them curiously. 

“Go line up, Ed. Havoc, Mustang, you too.”

“What?! But we just ran- he hasn’t even done anything!”

“Then you’ve had an excellent warm up, then! Line up.” 

Mustang trotted over to stand next to Ed, “I need to talk to you, but you’ve been avoiding me-”

“3 laps, GO!” Ed shot off before Mustang could finish his sentence. Having an automail leg meant that he could have an extra powerful boost with it. No one could tell, either, which was the glory that was automail. His flesh leg was equally powerful though, since he couldn’t always rely on his prosthetic. Especially this one, which was just a prototype. It was significantly lighter than his normal leg, and as a result his start wasn’t as strong as it usually was.

The students jumped out of the way to avoid Ed blasting his way down the track, Mustang a few meters behind with Havoc at his heels. Those who were done with their run stood at the side cheering them on. The cheerleaders banded together and formed a routine on the spot for Mustang.

“YOUR FORM IS SHIT, ELRIC!” Russell Tringham yelled at him. Well sOrrY, but he was missing an arm! 

“FUCK OFF, TRINGHAM!” he yelled and pulled ahead with a sudden boost (help of the automail, of course). 

“BEAT THE FAG, MUSTANG!” oh there it was. That was one of the most popular nicknames for Ed, started by Envy that spread when people noticed his long braided hair and  _ very normal stature _ , thank you very much. He stamped on the ground with his metal leg and pulled ahead. Ed didn't keep many things secret, he didn't exactly hide his gayness but not many people knew. 

Before long he was on his third lap and he overtook Havoc on his second. 

One last burst of adrenaline had him flying over the line, completing his set. He turned to grin at Teacher to find she wasn’t next to the bench. Ed pushed up on the tips of his toes to glance over the class and spotted Teacher near the back.

“-your problem with them? Huh?” she was standing tall and looking down at them, posture stiff and intimidating. Teacher was practically oozing hatred. Before her stood the two people that had been rooting against Ed. They shrunk, both trying to hide behind each other, scrambling to find an answer.

“It’s- it’s not right!” the shorter one managed. Teacher raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the answer. Ah, they were talking about homosexuals.

“And why is that?” her eyes flashed, Ed approached slowly like he would to a wild animal.

“Men and women make children! That’s how it is- t-to survive! Adapt, change!” Ed was impressed this kid could last so long under Teacher’s gaze and still talk. 

“Exactly,  _ adapt _ , dimwit. Amestris is overpopulated anyways,” Ed put a hand on Teacher’s crossed arms. She looked about a second away from jumping the two of them. With a last glare that sent the two boys running off, she turned onto Ed. 

“What did I do this time??” he exclaimed.

“It seems I know nothing about you boys,” she spat furiously, “I was about to lay that boy out.” 

“Exactly. You’d get fired and sued in a heartbeat.”

“Not if they can’t find me.”

Ed gave her a look. Was  _ she _ really the teacher here?

Teacher took a breath and then cupped her hands around her mouth, “BELL RINGS IN FIVE, GET BACK TO THE GYM AND CHANGE.”

Ed sighed before starting the trek back. He couldn’t help but overhear: “You do know I’m bisexual right?” 

_ Well I’ll be, _ he thought to himself,  _ Mustang’s not horrible!  _

Disaster struck during study hall, Ed was quietly reading the book assigned to them for Literature, when Mustang cornered him in the corner of the library. Ed stood up quickly and-  _ too  _ quickly. Shit. His automail locked up. 

“ _ Fucking… _ prototype leg,” he hissed at it, hitting it with his fist. Winry glanced up and instead of aiding him in his troubles, adopted a devious grin.

“I’m going to go find a book on, uh, squirrels! Yeah, I’ll be back in 5,” she announced loudly, the librarian glared at her and she excused herself from Ed’s table.

“Fucking traitor!” Ed growled, still trying to get his knee to cooperate by banging on the port that covered it. In all of his… scheming? He completely forgot about Mustang. Shit.

“Elric,” Mustang said, crossing his arms as he looked down at him. Ed’s head snapped up.

“What do you want?” 

“What made you think I wanted something? Maybe I’m just here to see how my fellow classmate was doing.”

Ed scoffed, “You’ve never bothered to say more than two words to me last year, what’s changed?”

Mustang dropped his arms and held up his hands,”Fine, fine, you got me!”

At this moment, Ed discreetly unlatched the leg and reattached it quickly before straightening up. He shoved his papers and books into his bag and ducked under Mustang’s outstretched arm. He heard him swear under his breath and hurried to the front desk to check out the books on biology he had wanted to read.

The librarian was quick and efficient, thank god, but Mustang caught up to him while he was making a break for the door. Damn jocks and their long legs. 

“I don’t want to talk to you, Mustang!” Ed sang as he made a sharp turn. He felt a hand grab his shoulder and jerked away from the touch. He had no arm, damn it. Based on Mustang’s confused look, he probably felt something he shouldn’t have. 

“Fine, I’ll hear you out,” Ed said quickly to drag the attention away from his arm, where Mustang was staring intently. He snapped out of it and started talking, as if he was reciting off a flashcard.

“I want you in my team for the Sports Festival coming up, you have the strength, endurance, speed-” Mustang rattled off.

“No, absolutely not,” Ed butted in before he could continue. He didn’t do school spirit shit, no way. Ed turned around to leave before Mustang made one last desperate call.

“You owe me!” what. “For the pie,” he clarified. Ed stared at him for a long time.

“What events do you want me to do?” he asked. Mustang outwardly relaxed, and a smile played on his lips.

“I was hoping for a relay, 100 meter dash, and pole vault.”

Ed tilted his head to the side, confusion written on his face, “Pole vault?” 

“You have the flexibility and the strength, I figured you’d be good at it.”

“Is that it?” Mustang nodded, “Fine. I’ll be in your damn team. It better not be shit though.”

“I’ll do my best not to disappoint,” Mustang threw him a wink that left Ed fuming. As he turned away he called, “Oh yeah, practice is tomorrow after school, I’ll find you!” 

Wait what? Practice?? But there were only two trains a day for Resembool from East City. Well, shit. Ed swore colorfully as Winry cheerfully appeared behind him.

“Look at you,” she cooed, “making friends!” 

He shoved her off, “Were you listening the whole time??” 

_ Fuck _ everyone. Ed stormed off to Literature. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY- I did Izumi Curtis dirty, I couldn't quite get her right ;-; Well anyways, Ed has signed on to Team Mustang, and training is about to begin. Like it? Hate it? Let me know, I love your comments! Thanks :)


	7. He Was Going to Regret This, Wasn't He

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed takes charge.

The train back home was spent quietly considering options. He could become a street rat. Yeah, maybe not. 

“I talked to Mustang,” Ed mentioned as he and Alphonse pored over the Xingese books they had checked out that day. He watched Al’s head snap up quickly.

“What?! Why didn’t you tell me?” he shoved away the books, ignoring Ed’s indignant cry, and turned to face him, “What’d he say?”

“He wanted me to join his team for the Sports Fest.”

“What’s the ‘Sports Fest’?”

“Oh yeah, you don’t know. Basically, the school holds a contest with different sports events. The winners of the events get to go to Central to compete against Central, North, West, and South City students for an overall prize. I didn’t compete last year, since it’s mostly third and fourth years that win the events. Mustang wants me in the 100 meter dash, four person relay, and pole vault,” Ed explained. At Al’s furrowed brow he elaborated, “He claims my flexibility and strength would be great for it.”

“What’d you say?”   
  


“He pulled the ‘you owe me’ card with the pie, the asshat,” Ed grumbled, “I  _ told you _ he would want something.”

Al laughed at him. 

“I have ‘practice’ tomorrow after school,” he continued, “But there aren’t any trains to Resembool after the 4:00 one.”

“You could ask to stay the night at Teacher’s ,” Al suggested. Ed shrugged.

“Yeah, but what if she says no?”

“She and Mr. Sig would take you both in a heartbeat,” Winry chimed in from the open doorway. They looked up at her. Ed didn’t really have any other options. “Granny says dinner is in five, so clean up and come down.”

Ed turned back and titled his head in acknowledgement, Al following. They quickly tidied up their room and joined Winry and Granny Pinako for dinner.

Ed thought back to the night before, when the topic was brought up, Granny quickly agreed to let Ed stay over at Teacher’s house, damn her.

“You need to make friends,” she had said. Ed was very much offended. 

“ _ I have friends! Al! And Winry!” _

“Al’s your brother, he doesn’t count. You have one friend. Not that impressive shortstack.”   
  


“Who’re you calling shortstack, midget hag?!” he had yelled. Winry and Al had sat there laughing at him. 

In present time, Ed watched the ticking clock closely. He  _ really _ didn’t want to go to ‘practice’ with Mustang. Who was on the team anyways? Probably some jocks. Ed hated jocks. They were all freakishly tall, and ridiculously  _ good looking _ . Despite that, most of them barely scraped passing grades and were bullies. 

If there was anything Ed hated more than milk, it was probably a dumbass. That was also a hobby of his, finding synonyms of the word “moron” and laughing at the idiots as he insulted them. 

Yeah, he was an asshole. Ed smiled to himself at the thought. He ignored Mustang’s stare from across the room. Damn him too.

The bell rang far too soon for Ed’s liking and Mustang was looming over him before he could even blink.

“What, you thought I’d bolt or something?” Ed grumbled.

“Well, based on our past interactions…” he responded, “Hurry up, we’re meeting with Havoc and Hawkeye.”

Oh,  _ of course _ , Mustang’s buddies were the other people on the team. Granted, it’s was a sports festival, but still. Ed made sure to drag his feet and slow down Mustang as long as possible. He passed Al on the way to the front of the school and gave him a desperate look.  _ Save me. _

Al shot him a cheerful grin. Ed grimaced at Mustang’s heel. 

They walked a block away from ECHS and met the others in front of ‘HAVOC’S GENERAL STORE’. Hawkeye glared at him. He glared straight back. Havoc’s brows shot up at the sight of him.

“Roy, I trust your judge, and everything, but are you sure this runt can clear that four meter bar?” 

Ed tensed his arm and his fingers curled into a fist. Automail fucking hurt, and this guy was about to get a taste of some. Hawkeye shouldered past him to converse quietly with Mustang, shaking Ed out of it. He eyed Havoc. 

“Don’t be saying that when I kick your ass,” he decided on. Havoc looked distinctly amused. This fuckin-

“Right, Elric, you already know Riza and Jean. All of the events that include long distance throwing is covered by Riza, Jean is in the short distance. We, along with first year Kain Fuery, third year Heymans Breda, and fourth year Vato Falman will be participating in the volleyball game. Jean and I will also be in the small side football and soccer matches, and I’ll be running the 50 meter,” Mustang dished out the roles. He was a natural leader, Ed couldn’t help but note. He couldn’t exactly make fun of that. 

“Elric will be running the 100 meter dash, and our pole vaulter,” Mustang added on as an afterthought for the other two. 

“So… what’re we doing in front of a general store?” Ed noticed the others grimace.

“Ah, we couldn’t reserve any fields for training,” Mustang rubbed the back of his neck, “Jean’s family owns the store and is letting us use the empty yard in the back.”

“The school couldn’t make exceptions for East City’s star quarterback?” They pointedly ignored the comment. Ed follows them around the building to the back. 

He squinted at the space. It was  _ tiny _ . He could practically just from one end to the other. He facepalmed.

“Are you serious? This absolutely will not do. If I’m going to be in this shitty Sports Festival, then this team better be winning,” he snarled. Hawkeye stepped up and opened her mouth to argue back before Mustang held out a hand to stop her.

“Alright then, what do you propose we do?” 

Ed weighed his options. Damn it.

“First things first! Warm up, everyone get to the train station in five!” He set off running. God damn it. The train left in five minutes. Ed reached the ticket booth first with Hawkeye hot on his heels. He slapped a few cenz on the counter and grabbed the tickets before latching onto Havoc’s arm and shoving the tickets into their hands. 

The person sliding the doors shut took pity on them and waited until they were safely aboard the train. The four were huffing and gasping for breath. What the hell was Ed thinking. Five minutes ago it seems to be a good plan, now? Not so much.

Havoc blinked, “the hell are we doing on a train?”

“You’ll rue the day you became a kidnapper, Elric,” Mustang threatened weakly, still trying to catch his breath. They practically collapsed into the seats, Ed still standing and doubled over. 

“You stay here,” he commanded. Teacher was going to be pissed. Ed glanced at the number on the side of the train. Car number 4. Al and Winry should be one car behind them, in the corner on the left, like they always were. He jumped across the little area connecting the two cars and slid open the door. 

Ed walked the length of the train before dropping down in the seat next to Winry.

“Ed?!” She shrieked and hit his arm, “What the hell??”

“Brother? Aren’t you supposed to be with Mustang?!” Al’s eyes were wide with confusion and shock. “Don’t tell me you ditched them!”

Ed grimaced, “Yeah, about that.” 

* * *

When Ed returned the find Mustang and the others, he was surprised to find they were still where he left them, but the guys were asleep. Hawkeye was silently watching the window, Roy’s head up against her shoulder. It was oddly domestic. She looked up as he slid the door shut, blocking out sounds of the rushing air outside.

“Where are we going?” She asked. She was glaring at him. Great. Well, maybe he deserved it this time. He did just shove them on a train to an unknown destination and then ditch them for half an hour. 

“Resembool, it’s a small sheep town.”

“And why is that?“

Ed scoffed at the question, “You expected us to train in that dump? Could've ran further in a playground.”

She stayed quiet for a moment.

“We’re trusting you, Elric. When will we arrive?”

_ We’re trusting you _ . Those words rang throughout Ed’s head. The last time someone had uttered those words, Ed was halfway on the train to hell. His mother’s voice had been faint before it had faded entirely. He shook his head to rid it of the memories.

“Five minutes or so, you’ll know you’ve arrived once you can smell the sheep shit.”

Hawkeye gave him an unnerving stare. It offset him, like one Teacher would use when he tried to lie to her.

“‘Course, sheep shit doesn’t really smell that bad, just when you’ve got hundreds of sheep in one place,” he blabbered nervously. What the hell was up with that glare? Ed could swear goats could be scared into submission with that, “there’s probably more sheep than people in Resembool, the main farm’s way in the outskirts of town though, barely considered part of Resembool even though everyone depends on it and all. They pass by Winry’s house everyday to bring the sheep in, to get butchered and stuff. It’s real annoyin’ because they just load ‘em up into their trucks.”

What the fuck was he saying? Ed could feel his Amestrian slipping more and more into the country slurs he was used to. A flush was creeping up his neck the more he rambled on.

“S-so since they don’t do anythin’ to rein ‘em in the sheep just jump right out the back and they spend like an hour just tryin’ ta find their sheep again everyday. It’s one of the most worn out places in Resembool too, they have to make the trip everyday yet every time it rains they sink into potholes, ain’t that crazy? In the spring it’s mighty hard to get anywhere, there’s this annual Spring Sheep Festival, and everyone in town pitches in to help shear the sheep. It’s kinda disgustin’, have ya ever felt wool? ‘S all oily and tangled, the men in town all shear down the sheep and the kids help wash it before the women comb it out. Al and I’ve always been put with the kids, and it fuckin’ sucks. Did you know Resembool’s the main provider of wool for the military? It- uh I should stop talkin’...” Ed trails off, he was sure his face was bright red. He was mortified. It took all his self control not to bury his head in his arms and disappear. Fuckin’ Hawkeye and her look.

“No, do go on, Elric, it was enthralling,” Mustang drawled. Oh of course he was awake. He settled on glaring a hole into Mustang’s shoulder. The train stopped with a jolt that shook Havoc awake, who blinked and brightened up at his surroundings. Huh, no one typically got excited over nothing around them but sheep for kilometers.

Ed shoved Havoc into his feet before snatching up his book bag and stomping off the train. 

“Brother, your face is red,” Al commented unhelpfully.

“I swear ta- y’all’ll get run over by fuckin’ stampeding sheep,” he threatened. He couldn’t help the “y’all” that slipped out. He flushed further at Hawkeye and Mustang’s matching looks of amusement. Havoc was surveying their surroundings.

“Ya’know, I grew up in a country town before I got into East City High,” he told them as they headed toward the Rockbell’s house, “I lived in the Shire, we had a lotta peach farms.”

“The Shire? We trade a lot with them,” Winry replied, “I think Ed and Al went over once.”

Ed’s expression dropped, and so did Al’s. Yeah, they did. Right before some drunk sped right into their car. And their mom. He watched Winry go through the “oh shit I fucked up” cycle clearly displayed in her face. 

“W-well anyways, I’ll go ahead and go tell Granny we’ll be having guests!” She rushed out before dashing into the house. Ed and Al followed before Ed noticed no one was following him. He turned to see the other three lingering outside, unsure of whether to go in without being invited.

“The fuck y’all- I mean are you waiting around for? We don’t have all day, ya- you know,” he cursed the words that slipped out with his loose tongue. Ed waited for a second, watching them take cautious steps, before rolling his eyes and ducking inside without them. 

He found Al and Winry explaining the situation to Granny before heading for the phone sitting in the living room. Ed dug out a slip of paper out of his book bag and dialed in the phone number written on it.

“Curtis Meats, how can I help you?” Sis’s deep voice came through. 

“Hey, Mr. Sig, can I talk to Teacher?” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Havoc peeking his head through the open door. Ed rolled his eyes once more, gesturing for them to come in.

“Ed? Is that you? Give me a minute, Izumi!” Sig yelled on the other side of the phone. Ed missed a few words exchanged but soon Teacher’s voice replaced Sig.

“Ed? Are you still staying the night?” 

“No, sorry for asking earlier,” Ed quickly briefed them on the situation. Teacher laughed at him. He handed the phone to Havoc and Hawkeye, who needed to call their respective families.

“You don’t need ta- to make a call?” Ed questioner Mustang.

“No, I live by myself.” 

Ed’s mind quickly slipped to all the girls Mustang had dated and quickly shook himself out of that train of thought.

“Alright, suit yourself,” he left them in the living room and leapt up the stairs, taking two at a time. He quickly stripped out of his leather pants and long sleeve tee underneath his jacket, and changed into a simple blank tank top and a pair of shorts. Ed stared at the faux skin and gave a sigh before tugging it on. He hated it, it hugged his automail uncomfortably (not that he could really feel it) and limited his movement. His leg wasn’t as bad, but looking at the dull flesh tones instead of gleaming steel also threw him a bit off.

By the time he returned downstairs Al was heading up and Granny was conversing with the guests. When he needed them all out the door she handed them a few cold water bottles.

“ _ Someone  _ has to be a good host, and it sure as hell won’t be you.”

Ed led them down the road to behind his old house, and took them down to the bottom of the hill.

“Alright, stretches,” he commanded. They followed him willingly. Hm, maybe basic group stretches? They are football players after all.

“To the right!” he bent his knee forward in a side lunge and held it there, stretching out his calf, “1!”

“2!” the others joined in, ah, so they weren’t complete dimwits after all. After they had gotten to 20 Ed switched sides. They cycled through a few other stretches before he started actually drilling them. 

“First things first, endurance test, 5 sprints up the hill, GO!” Ed took off and finished first, surprising Havoc was the next to finish. Hawkeye brought up the end, but not by much. He watched their forms as they ran in. Mustang had excellent breath control, and Hawkeye had the best form out of all of them, but in the end Havoc had the strength and the quick thinking to find the easiest to complete the task. Ed told them so, and Havoc was offended.

“Are you calling me lazy?” He cried out. Hawkeye tried to mask her laugh in a cough. Ed ignored him and tossed a water bottle to Mustang. Havoc was also the biggest out of all of them and it probably affected his speed, if gym was anything to go by. Hawkeye’s light weight would help out there.

“We’re testing strength next,” he told them. He handed a pole to Hawkeye and gestured for her to hold it up. He then hung buckets either end and slowly added tomatoes to them. Maybe he was taking a bit too much joy in this, Ed could see why Teacher liked coaching. Havoc took the lead once again in strength, but Hawkeye was a bit surprising, considering her smaller build. Mustang came last. Ed laughed at him.

“I’d like to see you try, Elric.” 

Ed scowled as he bore the weight of the fucking tomatoes. It wasn’t as fun when he was on the receiving end of the torture. He managed to flip off Mustang while he added weight to the buckets painstakingly slowly, but found himself pretty on par with Havoc.

“Right, Chief, what’s next?” Havoc grinned after Ed set down the tomatoes. 

“Chief?” Ed and Mustang both asked simultaneously. He tilted his head slightly.

“Yeah, you’re kind of like our leader now, right?” Havoc replied.

“Hey!” Mustang cried out. Ed gave him a shark-like grin,  _ loser _ . He clapped his hands together.

“We’re running out of daylight, so a sprint back to the house.”

Ed cleaned up their area and made sure to lock the door before chasing after the other three who had gotten a head start. They did their stretches around the side of the house next to the back door and headed in.

“Thank you for this meal,” they told Granny before starting to eat. Ed, who was seated between Al and Mustang, filled up his plate while Havoc struck up a conversation with Granny. Something about peach season and how the orchards were infested. Ed reached for the last potato left on the dish in front of him and found someone’s fork in the way.

Fuckin-  _ Mustang _ . Ed glared at him and knocked his arm away with his free hand, snagging the potato and stuffing it into his mouth. Mustang watched him with an amused smile. Al elbowed him discreetly and gave him a look. Ed rolled his eyes.

“Sorry,” he muttered, not sorry in the slightest.

“It’s fine,” Mustang replied. He then turned and picked up his conversation with Hawkeye, the prick. 

“Happy?” He hissed under his breath. Winry kicked him under the table.

Havoc was loud and boisterous, much like Ed himself, and the way he ate and sunk right into the Resembool air gave away much about his background. He had an accent, Ed discovered, though it was covered up from having spent years in East City. If he hadn’t been so stupid Ed might’ve been friends with him. 

Mustang, on the other hand, was a city boy through and through, from his impeccable manners to the way he delicately ate his food. 

Hawkeye was an odd mix of the two, she looked content, unusually content, at the table, watching Ed and Granny bicker with a melancholy smile on her face. Her table etiquette was second to none and was able to hold an engaging conversation, but something was missing from the way she conversed with Alphonse. 

* * *

After dinner Ed showed the three their temporary room. The Rockbell house didn’t have any guest rooms, so they had to stay in the patient room, the cots weren’t that comfortable but it was a warm bed. He left them to gather their bearings and went to find some extra clothes for them to sleep in. A t-shirt and some shorts for Hawkeye from Winry, and a few of Al’s oversized shirts and sweatpants for the guys, 

“The bathroom’s through here, you can shower and whatever shit Mustang needs to do prepare himself, but you’ll have to get clothes from home tomorrow morning,” Ed informed them. They followed him out to the living room to catch up on homework and waste time before going to bed. Winry and Granny were in the back tinkering so it was just the brothers with Havoc, Hawkeye, and Mustang.

Ed finished up the last of his math work and yawned loudly. Al caught the contagious gesture and yawned as well. Havoc stood up and groaned as his joints popped audibly. 

“‘M turnin’ in,” Al said, accent slipping out. He left the group and climbed up the stairs. Ed gathered his papers before following after Al.

“See ya,” he gave them a two fingered salute before turning his back on them.

Al was waiting for him when Ed entered the room. He helped him shower and wiped down his automail. After both of them had settled into bed after drying Ed’s long hair, he was drifting off to sleep when he heard Al mutter something.

“What’d you say?”

“I think you fit well with them,” Al reiterated quietly. Ed couldn’t find the energy to protest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at like 1 in the morning so now Havoc's is a fucking hobbit and Ed just took over the team. I don't know if this is really plausible (it's not), but I hope you liked it. Or hated it, let me know! Thanks :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed watches volleyball.

Edward felt exhausted. He woke up feeling like someone put a car on his back. That was probably because he  _ had _ been lagging a bit behind on fitness. His physical state had been in a slow decline ever since he and Al finished Teacher’s “training”. 

After Al helped him get up, he trudged into the bathroom, now with the weight of a heap of metal (Winry would kill him if he said that out loud). He splashed water in his face and rubbed until his eyes and cheeks were red. He blinked at his reflection. Golden eyes stared back at him. Nothing had changed. Only the fact he felt like hell. 

Oh yeah there were guests here. He should probably wake them up, not everyone had to get up at six in the morning to commute. 

“Al, ‘m gon wake ‘em,” he told him after leaving the bathroom. Now, the patient room. But where. Right, next door. Yup. God, he needed coffee. 

Yes, here. Ed stared at the door. He raised his fist to knock. No, they wouldn’t wake up. He turned the doorknob, and stepped in. All of them were still asleep. Hawkeye was on the bed in between Mustang and Havoc. 

Ed’s face flushed, so apparently Havoc tended to sleep shirtless. If Ed’s gaze lingered a bit too long on his torso, well no one would know. Except for Winry. Who stepped up behind him.

“Stop admiring Havoc’s abs and wake ‘em up,” WInry whispered.

“HoOlY shit!” Ed jumped back. He blushed even deeper, “I wasn- I was not!”

His flailing arms knocked the lamp of the table. It hit the ground with a loud thud, but luckily didn’t shatter. However, it was enough to wake Hawkeye.

“Ed,” Winry’s eyes widened, “your  _ arm _ .”

“Yeah? What about it?” Ed noticed Hawkeye sit up and stare at him, “ _ Oh _ . Fuck, shit.”   
  


He turned around and left. Skin sleeve- that was needed, yes there were guests. 

Al just shook his head when Winry explained what happened and helped Ed pull on the faux skin. Ed didn’t really remember what happened after that but before he knew it he was at the coffee table with a mug in his hand. 

A slight blush rose to his face when Havoc sat down at his side, now dressed in his clothes from the day before. He choked on a piece of toast when Al gave him a smirk. Winry kicked Al under the table.

Ed stood up and cleaned up his plate hurriedly, bringing it over to the sink. He went back upstairs to grab his and Al’s book bags. When he came back down the rest of the group had finished breakfast and Granny was finished with their lunches.

“No, we’ve already stayed over, we can’t accept-” Mustang tried to refuse the lunch bag Granny had shoved at him. Ed snatched the bag and stuffed it into Mustang’s bag.

“Just take the damn lunch, we have to go.”

Ed let Winry lead the way to the train station, he stayed in the back with Al and Havoc. 

“So then Flora said, ‘Oh I’m so sorry, but Eric is just better at kissing!’ and I’m just like, that two-timing fox!” Havoc yelled. Al patted him on the back sympathetically while Ed rolled his eyes.

“But then I noticed this one girl, her name is Rose, right? And she has the prettiest eyes! She’s a third year, and I want to talk to her but she’s always around this senior that spews so much bullshit it’s a wonder that asshole has any friends, so I keep thinking she’s a bit dull- well what should I do?” Havoc turned toward Ed expectantly.

“I’m gay.”

“Okay then, other Elric, what do I do?” he turned to his other side. Al gave out a few points while Havoc nodded along. When they boarded the train Al invited the team to sit with him and Winry. It was a bit of a tight fit, but they squeezed in, Ed was pressed between the window and Al. He leaned against him and fell asleep almost immediately.

“Brother.” 

“Brother.”

Ed was pushed onto the floor. 

“Ow- what the hell?!” he pushed himself into a sitting position and moved to rub his eyes, only to find Al had already dragged him up and pushed him off the train. He tripped over the small space and nearly face planted before Mustang caught and righted him. Ed shoved his hands off before grabbing the bag Al handed him. The nap just made him even groggier. 

Mustang, Hawkeye, and Havoc split from the group at the train station, heading home to freshen up and change. 

“Practice is tomorrow after school!” Havoc called as he turned away. Ed, Al, and WInry headed to school. Winry made the smart decision of making a pit stop at a convenience store and purchased an ice coffee for Ed.

“These things fucking suck, it’s basically sugar and water,” Ed grumbled.

“Sugar equates to energy,” Winry reminded him. He took a sip and grimaced. When they reached the school Ed was still drowsy. She had to guide him to the gym. 

* * *

That day Teacher decided their running was somewhat adequate and started their units, basketball being the first. Ed was hit twice in the head. He was adequately woken up.

“The hell’s up with you?” Teacher frowned at him. He scowled and rubbed the red mark on his forehead.

“Training with Mustang’s team,” he grumbled, he passed the ball back to Tringham, who was his partner (look, Ed didn’t like him but everyone else was even worse). Ed barely caught the ball he chucked back at him.

“It’s a  _ pass _ , Tringham,” Ed snarled. Tringham made a face back at him as Teacher left his side to yell at other groups. 

“Heads up,” he called out. Ed threw the ball back.

“Haha, I get it,” Ed retorted. So what if he was hit twice? He got it, Tringham didn’t need to mock him.

“No actu-” A ball smacked Ed in the back of his head, “Oh well too late.”

Ed swore colorfully while picking himself off the floor.

“Thomas!” Teacher yelled, running across the gym toward Ed. Huh, maybe that was louder than he thought, “What the hell was that pass? It flew over your partner’s head! ”

A girl with pink bangs ran over and got on her knees in front of Ed. What? She clasped her hands together and started to beg. 

“Oh my gosh I’m so so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you- please forgive me!”

“Alright, yeah whatever, get up,” Ed helped her to her feet. She apologized once more and retrieved the ball.

“Thank you, Leto,” he heard her mutter. Ah, so she was one of those god-worshippers. Ed didn’t believe in god, who apparently was fair and rewarded good behavior. ‘God’ just seemed to take and take from him and Al. Maybe it was because he didn’t believe. Whatever.

Ed turned back around and barely caught the ball shot toward his face. He lowered his hands to see Tringham’s smirk. 

“Damn… fourth time’s the charm though, right?” 

That fucking asshole.

* * *

Practice was…  _ fun _ , Ed was horrified to find. Havoc had a good sense of humor and kept it lighthearted when Hawkeye and himself got a bit too intense. Mustang was actually kinda of smart, surprisingly, and just as much of a nerd as Ed was. He was also good at planning, able to think of every outcome and how to solve it using each person's strong suits. Hawkeye glared at Ed. A lot.  


The Sports Fest was in a little over a month and a half and the team was improving quickly. They would take first in all events and get to the Central tournament if it was the last thing Ed would do.   


‘Team Mustang’, Ed had dubbed it even though Havoc claimed he was the captain, met 3 times a week, on all the days the football team didn’t have practice or games. Ed helped Hawkeye utilise her smaller build and gave pointers to Mustang about his form. 

Today, Ed would be watching their volleyball practice. They had 6 people on the team, and played a 3v3 round with him as the referee and coach combined.

“FALMAN!” Ed screamed. What the fuck was that?? He turned his head toward Ed.

“What?!” he was annoyed. Why was  _ he _ annoyed?   
  


“What do you mean,  _ what? _ The fuck was that block? You’re the tallest fucking person here, and you couldn’t block that spike??” Ed was fuming. Havoc was still whooping from the spike he had just landed past Falman’s pathetic excuse for a block. 

“I had perfect form!” Falman yelled back. Oh yeah,  _ textbook _ perfect form,

“Yes, perfect form, but WATCH THE FUCKING BALL. PERFECT FORM WON’T DO ANYTHING IF IT WON’T BLOCK THE BALL,” Ed pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sharp exhale. He let them continue with their game, Havoc, Hawkeye, and Heymans Breda on one side, Mustang, Kain Feury, and Vato Fucking Falman. ‘Team H’ (yeah it was a shitty name, but they had come up with it themselves) was winning 15-11, due to Fucking Falman’s god-awful blocking.

Of course, Falman wasn’t the only one that had issues.

“FEURY! PUT MORE FORCE BEHIND THAT, IT’S A FUCKING SPIKE! THAT WAS A PERFECT SET WASTED.”

“Sorry!”   
  


“THAT RECEIVE WAS SHIT AND YOU KNOW IT, HAWKEYE.”

“Mustang what the hell.”

“DON’T GIVE UP ON THE BALL, BREDA, THE PLAY DOESN’T END UNTIL THE BALL HITS THE FLOOR.”

Ed was ready to slam his head into the wall. The only ones that were somewhat decent were Havoc and Hawkeye. Both of them were excellent wing spikers with amazing aim and strength to back it up. Havoc had a few troubles with receiving, but was pretty good at setting up and blocking the shots. Hawkeye was well rounded, but didn’t stand out too much next to Havoc, who was loud and flashy. Her receives were the only thing that needed work. 

Mustang and Feury were in second, Mustang was good at spiking the ball. That was about it. Well, his blocks weren’t half bad, he could easily read the shots and adjust quickly, but if only he would apply that to his receives... Feury lacked the force behind a good spike but was quick and agile, able to cross the court in seconds to receive a ball. 

Breda made for a good wall, the best blocker out of all of them and had a strong spike. He tended to give up on balls that could be saved if he just put in the effort, and tired easily, but that could be fixed with additional training. 

Ed could find a million things wrong with Falman, he was stiff, uptight, and fucking B O R I N G. His blocks were absolute shit, sure they might be tExtbOOk pErfEct but EVERY BLOCK HAS TO BE ADJUSTED TO THE SPIKER. This guy managed to be the smartest yet the most idiotic person Ed had ever met, and that was saying something. He was constantly slow to receive, and because of it he fumbled it each and every time, forcing Mustang to spike it, leaving Fuery to spike it when Falman couldn’t rush back. 

In the end, Team H took the second 'set' and won the game, Hawkeye ending with a feint that Mustang barely missed.

“Falman you’re off the team,” Ed pointed to the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed is gay. He likes yelling at people. Come along as I try and act like I know sports :) Was I convincing to a non volleyball player? Let me know if you liked it, hated it, whatever! Thanks :)


	9. You'll Regret Challenging Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed plays volleyball.

“Excuse me?” Falman asked. Ed met six bewildered faces.

“You’re off the team,” he restated. Havoc and Breda exchanged confused looks.  _ Can he do that?  _ They were practically open books.

“You can’t decide that, you’re not even on the team,” Hawkeye glared at him. She did that a lot, what did she have against him? Personally, Ed thought he was an excellent captain, if not a bit rude.

“Now, I am. I’m taking Falman’s spot, all of you suck.”

“Hey!”

“Okay,” Ed amended, “Some of you suck, Havoc and Hawkeye are alright.”

“You hear that, Riza? We’re a match-“

“Shut up, Havoc.” 

Oof.

“How do we know you’re any good?” Breda asked. Skepticism overtook Feury and Falman’s faces. Team Mustang knew better than to challenge Ed at this point, he noted with satisfaction.

“Please! A ten year old could do a better job than this shithead,” Ed scoffed with his hands on his hips. He knew, he was just as strong when he was ten as he was now. Wait no, that wasn’t a good thing-

“Um, how about we play a match with him?” Feury suggested, Ed liked this guy. But maybe he was a bit too trusting for Ed’s tastes. 

“Alright,” Mustang agreed, he was still the official ‘captain’, after all. “But if you lose then you can’t sit in on our volleyball practice anymore.”

Ed agreed quickly and in a second he had leapt up and raced onto the court. He rolled his left shoulder and swung his arm a few times, stepping into a lunge to stretch out his calf. He pulled his foot up and held it there for a few seconds before releasing it.

“You’ll regret challenging me,” he sang to Falman, who scowled to turn and mutter something to Mustang. Ed considered his options for teammates, he could do without Feury, Ed was confident his speed could rival the first year’s. Maybe have Breda? He definitely didn’t have the height. He didn’t need any spikers, wink wink.  _ Element of surprise, never lose the upper hand!  _ Teacher's voice echoed in Ed’s head. 

“I’m sitting out this game to watch,” Mustang announced, made sense, he would be the one to ultimately decide if Ed would take over Falman’s spot or not. Which he would. Easily.

“I want Hawkeye,” Ed called out before teams were decided. She raised an eyebrow -fuckin eyebrows- but agreed. For that Ed wasn’t allowed any say in the rest of the team placements. 

Feury ended up on Ed and Hawkeye’s team, against Falman with Havoc and Breda. This was actually perfect, Ed was pretty sure Feury was added on to slow them down a bit but he covered up Hawkeye’s bad received nicely.

“Can you set for me?” Ed asked as they huddled around before the 3v3. Hawkeye nodded in affirmation. “Perfect, the one to watch is Havoc, he has the most powerful spike by far and he can aim well, Hawkeye and I will block but I want Feury to cover.”

Feury nodded, but then added on, “Breda can’t do many flashy tricks like Havoc, so if you follow him line of sight you can easily block him, but his shots are powerful.”

“Watch out for Havoc’s feints, it’s one of his favorites. Falman is also good at reading players, but I’m sure we can move quicker than he does,” Hawkeye put in her two cents. Yes, this was a much better team, even though they didn’t look it. Havoc, Breda, and Falman, were giants, the lot of them. Freakishly tall giant. 

Ed glared enviously at their heights. Falman was nearly two meters. That was a whole two meters absolutely wasted.

“Team Elric is receiving first! First to 10 points.”

Team Elric, huh? Had a nice ring to it. Ed felt a grin slide onto his face.

Mustang blew on a whistle to signal the start of their game, where the hell did he get that? Ed didn’t get a whistle! He guessed his thoughts must’ve shown on his face because Hawkeye shoved him to the left side as she moved toward the center of the court.

“Set to the right,” Ed muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Hawkeye gave a minute nod, eyes trained at the ball in Falman’s hands. As soon as he threw it into the air Ed knew something was off. He threw it too far forward, and the ball hit the net after Falman hit the ball downward. Fucking-

“I’ve got it!” Ed yelled as he dove forward, he dug up the ball and scrambled to his feet while Hawkeye set the ball for Feury. Damn it, he was supposed to spike! Feury’s shot was shut out by Breda’s one man wall. That was a point lost. Ed felt his eye twitch as Feury apologized to him.

“If you can’t get past the block, try hitting the edge of their hand for a rebound,” Ed suggested. Feury nodded vigorously before heading to the back with him. The three almost made an equilateral triangle, if Hawkeye moved just a centimeter to the right- Falman served, it was aimed straight for the side of Ed’s right arm, but he shifted his footing to hit it towards Hawkeye. 

_ Now- _ he caught Hawkeye’s gaze. He waited until he was sure it could connect before running toward the net and leaping up, he watched Havoc mark him alone and follow him up. Too slow! Ed’s automail slammed into the hall at full force right along the side line and bounce away.

He landed on the ground and whooped. Everyone was staring at the volleyball rolling to a stop next to the bleachers. Feury let out a disbelieving laugh before turning to Ed, eyes alight with excitement. It reminded Ed of Al. Al was great. 

“Holy shit!” Havoc yelled, mouth wide open, “That was fucking awesome!”

“That was a fluke though, right?” He heard Breda mutter. Hell no, give him some credit! Mustang was leaning forward in his seat, as Ed turned away he felt someone stare intently at his head.

The other shook off the shock of Ed’s spike quickly. He let a smug smirk on his face as the other team re-evaluated him. Ha, should’ve put two blockers on him. Hawkeye was quietly judging him again. 

“Alright, next time give me the same exact toss, I’m going to give the same spike with two blockers this time,” Ed rotated to the center of the court, it was Hawkeye’s serve. 

She threw the ball up and gave a steady serve, it was easily received, they would have to work on that, and before they knew it Falman and Havoc was launching a quick attack. Ed most definitely couldn’t block that in time, but he kicked out his foot and made contact with the ball. This was volleyball! As long as you keep the ball in the air then do so by any means.

“Sorry!” He called out to Feury, who clumsily set the ball for Hawkeye. A bad receive made for a bad set. She pulled through and landed the ball at the end of the court. Havoc was pouting at Ed.

“Hey! It’s no fun if you receive my spike!” Havoc whined. Ed laughed and turned away.

“‘Fraid I can't do that, got to take Falman’s spot and all.”

Hawkeye caught the ball in her hands and spun it around. She threw it up and slammed it down. Huh. Maybe she could learn to do a jump serve? Ed watched Breda try and copy Ed’s trick, kicking his foot out to try and keep the ball in play. No such luck, the ball went flying, and Havoc ran off the court to hit it back in.

“Chance ball!” Ed shouted as Falman knocked the ball back. Perfect. Feury received and Hawkeye set the ball. Ed was in the air with both Breda and Havoc in front of him this time. He slammed down on the ball and it hit the same place as the last one. Right along the line.

“Not a fluke~” Ed sang out into the silence that followed his spike. Feury ran up and gave him a double high five. Hawkeye had an impressed look in her eye, so Ed considered this an outstanding win. He glanced over at Mustang, who had his eyes wide as he watched the match play out.

“Hey, keep up! The score’s 2-1 now!” He grinned. Falman was  _ so  _ going to lose his spot.

Then Havoc did the stupid feint that Hawkeye told them explicitly to look out for. Ed was scowling again. Feury’s attempts to cheer him back up fell upon deaf ears. 

“Give me a toss close to the net next time.”

Havoc was now the one serving. He threw the ball up and jumped in the air. Ed bent down lower as he watched the ball. It was headed straight for Hawkeye. Damn. They couldn’t do anything about that.

“A service ace!” Breda cheered as Havoc pumped his fist. Yeah, that was pretty good. Falman still hadn’t done anything noteworthy this match, Ed didn’t know whether to laugh at him or to be worried. He was a little harder to read. 

Hawkeye was staring at her hands with her lips pursed.

“Shake it off, that couldn’t be avoided. Look up, Havoc’s serving again,” Ed turned around to concentrate on his body rather than the ball, he already knew it would be going toward the back with the jump serve. 

“Widen your stances, it’ll make it harder for the ball to be thrown off track if you can hold your form,” Ed threw over his shoulder, he heard the squeak of their soles against the gym floor and knew they had adjusted due to his advice.

This time Hawkeye managed to receive it but it went spiraling into the air off court. Feury ran over to set it towards Ed, who tipped it over Breda’s head. His irritated scowl flew onto his face as Ed smirked. He didn’t go all out  _ all  _ the time. 

They rolled the ball under the net and Ed snatched it up. Oh, hell yeah! It was his turn to serve. He threw it up and jumped after it to slam it down. His serve was not as powerful, nor as flashy as Havoc’s but it got the job done. It slammed into Falman’s shoulder (which was just a happy coincidence) and flew off the court. 

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Mustang commented lightly while Falman jogged off to retrieve the ball. Ed shrugged and scooped up the ball that was rolled towards him.

“This team needs a lot of work,” he served.

* * *

Team Elric won the match. Nobody was surprised. Falman’s mouth was set in a thin line as Ed held out his hand to shake. Okay maybe that was a bit mean. Falman quickly shook his hand and let go after a short moment.

“Those spikes shouldn’t be possible…” he muttered, staring at Ed’s arm. Ed turned quickly, sure, the skin sleeve did it’s job on a day to day basis, but it was never a good thing when somebody looked too closely.

“Alright,” Mustang sighed, “you’re on the team.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch as I bs my way through sports I don't understand pt. 2. Sorry if this was a bit boring, I wanted an 'official' Ed joins the team moment. I don't dislike Falman, I just started hating on him more and more as I wrote this chapter. Liked or hated it? Let me know! I might not post tomorrow, thanks :)


	10. Playing With the Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed gets teased for joining the volleyball team.

Ed’s grin dropped as soon as he left the gymnasium. Hold up- did he just  _ willingly _ sign up for another event?? The hell? Well, Falman was horrid, but still. 

“Didn’t know you were so willing to join the team,” Mustang smirked beside him. Ed quickened his pace, he had to find Teacher, he would be staying at her place that night. Mustang easily adjusted and continued to walk by Ed’s side making idle chatter.

“Fuck off, Mustang,” Ed pushed open the door to Gym 1, as they had been practicing in the second.

“Teacher! I’m done with practice,” Ed called, Mustang’s face turned to one of confusion, “Just fuck off, please, and thank you!”

Ed slammed the door shut and locked it. He then pushed in the bleachers after hearing Teacher begin clearing up her office. He turned back around to find Mustang’s stupid face peering through one of the little windows on the gym doors. He flipped him off and went to go through the boys’ locker room. 

Teacher had this policy of “if you leave anything behind, it’s going in the supply closet”, yeah, a lot of people complained about lost uniforms. The school didn’t care too much, when people lost clothes, they order new ones, so more money, right? It seemed everyone was a dumbass. 

Teacher walked out of the girls locker room holding a water bottle. She threw it into the supply room before shutting and locking the door.

“I joined the fucking volleyball team,” Ed grumbled as they exited the school through the back. He waved goodbye to Feury, who was heading out the same way as them. Teacher raised an eyebrow - did everyone but him know how to to that? - and Ed started to defend himself, “Falman was a pathetic excuse for an athlete, okay? He’s 190 centimeters tall and can’t even properly block!”

* * *

Staying at Teacher’s house was  _ glorious _ . At most, it was a 15 minute walk to the school, only two or three blocks away. Sig opened Curtis Meats around the same time, and Ed got to stay with them if he helped open up shop.

He met Winry and Al with a wide smile on his face. He got to sleep in a whole extra hour! 

“Get that smug grin off your face,” Winry grumbled, pushing him out of the train station. Ed told them about his misadventures in volleyball practice and Al started teasing him, to Ed's dismay.

“Oh? Seems to me like you’re just finding excuses to hang out with them, Brother,” he poked as they entered the campus. 

“Yeah right, as i-”

“So you agree!” Havoc sang jovially as he slung his arm over Ed’s shoulder, the fuck did he come from? Was he listening in? “If you wanted to hang out, Chief, you should’ve just told us!”

Ed tried shoving him off but Havoc held him in a vice-like grip. He stopped having a great morning. 

Havoc drove Ed around for 15 minutes, dragging him from one person to another, quietly fuming while Havoc conversed with his peers. Hawkeye berated Havoc and Mustang tagged along to laugh at Ed’s ‘kill-me-now” face. Al and Winry bid him a happy farewell as Havoc side-hugged him all the way to gym. 

“Yeah, you can let go of me now,” Ed hissed, Havoc did not relent.

“Nonsense!” Mustang exclaimed, “You’re part of the team, you’ve got to stick with the team, that’s what they say.”

Havoc nodded along.

“Who the fuck says that? You made that shit up!” Ed elbowed Havoc in the side and ducked out as he doubled over. He hid behind freakishly tall Tringham. No, he wasn’t hiding, he was conversing with Tringham’s back. 

“The fuck are you doing Elric,” Tringham turned around, well shit.

“I’m waiting for class to start.”

* * *

For once in his life, Ed thanked whoever it was that decided to make Havoc not smart. He couldn’t escape Hawkeye and Mustang, though, who had leapt straight onto the bandwagon. Hawkeye stopped glaring at him all the time, she just gave him thoughtful looks every once in a while that left Ed confused and curious. She did, however, take great joy in tormenting Ed.

“Now, Edward,” she scolded, “is this anyway to treat your teammates? Team bonding is crucial to the experience!”

“That’s  _ Elric _ to you, Hawkeye, and what part of a  _ math worksheet _ equates to team bonding?”

“It’s a  _ group _ math worksheet!” Mustang insisted, “Working together!”

“Well,  _ Riza _ , care to tell me the answers? We’re a  _ team _ after all!” Ed managed to cheat Hawkeye out of her answers (not that he needed them) using various ‘teamwork’ excuses. 

She was rather grumpy but Havoc hadn't changed a bit.

“You have to sit with us, lunch is the perfect opportunity for team bonding!” Havoc had found Ed once again. Al shoved him to the next table and Ed could practically see him scheming with Winry. Ed angrily shoveled stew into his mouth. Damn it- he couldn’t be mad when Granny’s soup tasted amazing!

“-right so I finally talked to Rose,” Havoc was saying, Ed finished off what was left in his thermos, “turns out she’s a religion nut, going on and on about how if we behave well, then Leto will reward us. The senior she was hanging around-”

“He’s not a senior,” Ed butted in, “His name’s Corn or something, he’s an alumni creep that hangs around the school gathering cult followers.”

He snatched half of a sandwich laying out in front of Havoc. He had two, he’d survive. Ed bit down on the sandwich, ugh. Cheese. He picked apart the bread and peeked inside, yup, cheese, sitting right in the middle. Ed picked it out and placed it back on the other half of the sandwich. 

“That’s kind of creepy. Well I guess this creep is some ‘messenger of God’ and has been gathering followers,” Ed started to tune Havoc out, instead opting to assess everyone at the table. ‘Team Mustang’, of course, Feury was also here, since first and second years had lunch together. There were also some other jocks, probably on the small-side football team that Team Mustang would be playing with at the Festival. He snuck a couple carrots from Hawkeye’s lunch (not really snuck, she noticed him instantly but let him take them anyways). 

“Can… Can I braid your hair?” Hawkeye asked hesitantly. Wait what? Ed leaned back.

“What?”

“Sorry, just ah, it looks really soft and I’d like to redo your braid,” Hawkeye was blushing slightly. 

“Uh… okay?” Ed hesitated for a moment before pulling out his hair tie. Hawkeye wiped her hands on a wet napkin before raking her fingers through his hair. Havoc and Mustang dropped their conversation and stared.

“What?” Ed snapped, Hawkeye scratched his head, oh-  _ oh _ , that felt good, “W-what’re you looking at?”

Her hands were rough with callouses but her fingers were long and gentle. It was a stark contrast between the way Hawkeye braided his hair and the way Winry tugged at it. It reminded him of Al. Al, who was the sweetest… Al, who was staring at him with a smug grin on his face. Ed scowled and flipped him off. 

“Why does Riza get to touch your hair?! I want to,” Havoc complained, placing his face into his palm. Mustang kept staring at Ed’s hair. 

“Do you even know how to braid?” Ed asked incredulously. Havoc nodded quickly.

“I grew up with two sisters! Of course I know!” Havoc insisted that he knew which surprised Ed. He could barely manage Winry, how could he live with  _ two _ sisters? Hawkeye tied off his braid and patted it one last time. He missed the warmth on his head. 

“Can I touch?” Havoc asked eagerly. Ed rolled his eyes and allowed it. Before he knew it, Havoc, Mustang, and Feury, were all petting him. Ed’s face was flushed, and Winry and Al had both migrated over to join in with the festivities.

“Alright, alright! You’re done! Done!” Ed swatted away the hands hovering over his head but they persisted. He snapped the plastic spoon in his hand. Whoops.

“Aw, Ed’s like a little kitty!” WInry cooed, Ed groaned in embarrassment as Havoc patted down his bangs and Ed shoved him away with his foot. He brought up his hands and stuck up his antennae, it added to his height, okay?

  
  


“Keep this up and I’m leaving the team!”

“Oh, and leave us to  _ perish _ with Falman?? You would never!” Mustang mocked him, Ed raced out of the cafeteria when the bell rang, and pulled his hood over his head when Mustang joined him at his table. Mr. Tucker looked up when they walked in, seeing as they were the first ones to class.

“No hoods in class, Mr. Elric,” he whispered. It made everyone in class uncomfortable when he talked. Class was always near silent, and though his voice was quiet each syllable rang out clearly. Ed removed his hood slowly, and glared at Mustang when his hand jokingly gravitated toward his head.

* * *

Ed forgot that he had practice. Which meant another how many hours with them? 5? 6? And then the morning after. The six sat together with Ed half sitting in the isle, half against Mustang, yeah he wanted Al, but Al insisted on “team bonding”. Well, Ed  _ was _ the ‘coach’ here… well if anyone made Team Mustang run off a cliff, then it was in the name of training, right?

“Brother…” Al started.

“Stop grinning like that, Ed,” Winry gave him a deadpan look. Ed rolled his eyes but dropped his expression. The train stopped and Ed got up to move to another seat, only to be followed by Hawkeye, who sat across from him.

“That’s not your real arm, is it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh, Hawkeye k n o w s. I don't really know the point of this chapter, but I always loved the idea of Ed is cat-like. Liked it? Hated it? Let me know, thanks! :)


	11. She Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed panics at Hawkeye's confrontation.

“That’s not your real arm, is it?” she asked. Ed stiffened and then relaxed after a moment. Hide it, don’t let her know.

“Uh… what do you mean?” he said, she couldn’t know, could she?

“Your right arm,” she reiterated. Was she looking  _ amused _ ? Oh hell no, Ed tried to play it off.

“What about it?” Ed lifted it up for her to see,  _ please don’t get suspicious please don’t get suspicious. _ She gave him a look  _ stop fucking around I already know. _

“It’s not real, is it?”

“What?? Of course it’s real!” Ed tried to sound offended. It didn’t sound convincing to him either. His heart rate was quickly increasing, no. She did not know for sure. Ed pulled up his sleeve to show her his arm. Or rather, the skin sleeve of his arm. She raised an eyebrow and tugged on his hand. The skin sleeve slipped off and the automail gleamed in the light. Ed tugged his sleeve back down harshly.

“Oh, so it  _ is  _ fake, I knew it!”

“What the hell?? Okay, okay, my arm’s fake, you didn’t have to do it on the  _ train!” _ he hissed. She looked vaguely apologetic and was quiet for a moment while Ed glared at her. Al looked over in concern but Ed shook his head minutely. Mustang and Havoc were now sending curious looks their way and Hawkeye did the same. He ignored her questions and quiet apologies in favor of staring out the window. 

When the train stopped in Resembool, Ed brushed past her in his hurry to get off the train and she grabbed onto his arm, flesh, this time.

“Elric- Edward- I, I’m sorry I didn’t know you were so sensitive-“

“Oh, then what did you expect to get out of that little confrontation? An award? Oh wow! You’re… the- the first to find out, Edward Elric is f-fucked up! Satisfied?” Ed tugged his arm out of her hold and stormed off, slamming his bag into Mustang’s side in his rush to get out.

“What’s with him?” Winry asked. Al caught up to Ed when he passed the fucking sheep farmers.

“Ah, Elrics!” One of the cheery farmers called, why the fuck are they so happy?? Ed sure as hell wasn't- not when, when, gah, he was so  _ careless! _ How could… could Hawkeye just know? No, he- he wasn’t careless, the sheep farmers were, grinning so happily at him. They literally just lost all of their smelly sheep, “Could ya give us a hand for a few? ‘Few of of the lambs jumped out, you see-“

“Are you fucking dumbasses? This has been h-happening for, for years! Just put something over the back, think and fix the problem, dimwits!” Ed screamed at them. Al gave him a sharp tug on the arm. Yes, fix the problem. Just… stop.

“Brother! I- I’m so sorry, Mr. Hanley, Mr. Monti, We uh- we’ve got to go,” Al put an arm around Ed’s shoulders and hurried him away. He sucked in air quickly, what the fuck was wrong with his lungs? Something tugged sharp on his hair, and his hand came up to bundle up the shirt around his chest. What the- fuck, automail. Hawkeye- Hawkeye  _ knew _ , which, which meant Mustang and- and Havoc and fuck. Everyone at school would know, and Envy would have a field day. They-they probably won’t let him participate in the sports festival, and Team Mustang fuckin- they fucking sucked, and they would lose because Ed, god, it’d all be Ed’s  _ fault. Just like- _

“Brother, brother!” Al sat him down. The thing in his hair tightened, it hurt, his breath came in gasps and Ed couldn’t think straight. Fuck, Al was sitting in front… Al was- he was nice. Al looked like Mom, Mom who- died. And, and mom died and now he has automail. Which, worthy punishment right? It was his fault that she is now six feet under, and Al, amazing Al, had  _ nightmares.  _ Automail was his punishment, yeah, and Hawkeye knew, and Ed could feel his body curling into itself but couldn’t control it. Mom’s body flashed through his mind, she was thin, too thin, and it was slightly bloody, a few cuts. There were… two, yeah two on her cheek, parallel to each other. And  _ no, Ed, don’t think of that _ , he told himself. It was hot, too hot, actually, and he felt like he was slowly combusting from the inside out. Liquid was running down his face, it was salty.

“-look at me,” Al tilted his head up gently. Al, yes, snap out of it, for Al. He couldn’t very well protect him like this, could he? Just-  _ stop it _ .

“Hey, Brother. Say it with me, okay? Hydrogen, helium…”

“L-lithium,” Ed choked out, science, science was nice. Science was facts, no ‘what if’s with… with human composition. Water, 35 liters, carbon, 20 kilograms. But then there _were 'what if's,_ carbon, think about carbon- Al was saying… something yes, focus on Al and not on-

“What’s next? Ber-“

“Beryllium,” Ed knew this, elements, table, “Boron, carb-bon.”

The grip in his hair lessened it’s hold, that was… nice of it. Oh,  _ oh _ , it was. Was. Automail.

“Tennessine, and um… oganesson,” His cheeks were wet when he finished, Ed realized. Was he crying? What? “The, um, the fuck happened?”

He rubbed his eyes roughly and looked up. Winry was hovering behind Al with Granny, who was holding a glass of water. Her lips were set in a thin line as she handed him the glass. He chugged the water quickly and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Alright, it's fine, it's cool.  


“I think you had a panic attack,” Winry said quietly. 

“A  _ what? _ ” Ed asked. Excuse me? A panic attack? Him? He glanced around, he was outside, sitting in the ground. It shouldn’t be this hot, it was nearly fall. His bangs were plastered to his forehead. 

“A- a lot of people that have had traumatic experiences have them.”

“B-but, it’s been years since the accident, and I’ve never had one before!”

“You did, once,” Al said. When? What? Where? How? “It was a- a couple weeks after the… the accident. You woke up crying and- and panicking. You didn’t remember it, though.”

Ed cleared his throat. A… a panic attack, right. But why would he have- Hawkeye.

“Hawkeye knows, um, about my automail,” he told Winry. Her eyes developed a murderous glint and she stormed off, “wait, where are you-“

She turned the corner and left. Speaking of, where was Team Mustang? They were with him when he- oh no. They must’ve seen him like- like a pathetic little-

“They didn’t see you,” Al must’ve seen the conflict on his face, “they’re inside right now, but they didn’t see anything, just you yelling at Mr. Hanley and Mr. Monti.”

Mr…? Oh shit, yeah he would have to apologize. 

“Okay, what time is it? I can apologize to them, they take like half an hour to get their fucking sheep anyways-”

“It’s nearly five.”

“Nearly five- holy shit! I-I’ve wasted so much time,” Ed leapt up and moved past Al and Granny, reaching for the doorknob, “Um… I have to- practice, yeah. Today’s Friday, there’s practice today, um thanks Al, I guess,”

“-cool! No, did you know Ed has trust issues?! He-“ Winry’s enraged shout died out when he stepped in. Ed suddenly became very self conscious of his appearance, eyes red, flushed, and bangs sticking to his face with sweat. He felt disgusting, too.

“Elric!” Mustang stood up at the sight of him, “Are- are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah I’m,” Ed’s voice cracked and he cleared it roughly, “‘m fine. We have practice, let’s go to the orchards.”

“No practice today,” Granny ordered from behind Ed. He whirled around to face her.

“What?! The Festival’s in a month! Do you even know- the team, we have to get better and-“

“You are not training today, that is final,” Granny gave him a stern glare as she spoke, “go take a shower, Edward, you smell.”

He ignored Hawkeye’s guilty look as he ascended the stairs. Did she even know what ‘subtlety’ meant? If a guy is hiding something, maybe don’t  _ call him out on it when he’s surrounded by people.  _ Al followed him up and took his leg. Half an hour of angry scrubbing later Ed emerged from the upstairs, very exhausted. Who knew panicking would take  _ energy? _

“Elric, um, I would like to apologize,” Hawkeye pulled him to the side, “for my actions, earlier, on the train. I should’ve thought it through and just kept quiet, I-“

“It’s fine,” Ed said shortly. It was not fine. He went and pulled his book bag out from under Winry’s and shut himself in his room with Al.

“Do you think she’ll blab?” Ed asked Al quietly, he pulled out his Drama script and his biology books while Al spread out his Xingese books.

“I don’t think so, Mustang and Havoc trust her, that should count for something, right?”

“Yeah, but what if she tells them? And they spread it?”

“I think Winry has made sure that won’t happen already,” Al let out a small chuckle. Winry…? Oh yeah, Winry was yelling at them as he, hold up- he did  _ not  _ have trust issues! He was perfectly fine! He trusted Al, Winry, Granny, Teacher… Sig… and Den! 

Ed scribbled down a sentence. He turned his head from side to side as he read it from different angles. Alright, his handwriting was chicken scratch. 

Automail was great with mobility, but it was still a prosthetic after all, and his fine motor skills weren’t  _ that _ great. He was right handed before the incident, but now he had to write with his left if he wanted anything somewhat legible. Ed erased it and rewrote the same sentence. 

Right yeah, that was Drama homework done, Ed didn’t like the class, okay? He pulled out the bio books instead, and flopped onto his bed.

“Brother,” Al chided, pulling the book out of his hands. Ed let out a whine as he made grabby motions toward the stolen item. Damn, how was his brother so responsible and polite? He sure as hell wasn’t. He sat up and pulled his Drama papers toward him with a huff. 

They worked quietly with an occasional question or comment, and once they heard clanking downstairs they cleaned up and went downstairs to help with dinner. Ed set the plates with Havoc (okay yeah, he wouldn’t trust him with plates either but who the fuck sets plates with three forks?? Havoc knew the way, Mustang and Hawkeye do  _ not _ ) while Al helped Granny in the kitchen. Winry and Mustang helped fetch ingredients and bring out the plates of food. Hawkeye stood around. 

Despite what Al said, Ed tried to make conversation during dinner, he really did. 

“So, Elric, what were you thinking I could improve on in volleyball?” Havoc prodded, on any other day, Ed would’ve jumped at the chance at open criticism. However, today? He wanted to sleep, and that was saying something, because he didn’t usually lose his appetite.

“Eumnegh…” he mumbled, he forked a piece of a carrot and forced it down, “receives? Bleneargh… blocks, eh-slow.”

He could feel the confusion radiating off the others at the table. Oh, Amestrian, um yeah. Ed cleared his throat and looked up.

“Your receives suck, move your feet, not your arms, you’re too slow to block, and you have to watch the ball, not the player,” he said, and then turned his attention back to picking at another carrot. Ed ignored their stares.  


Dinner was over quickly, to Ed’s great relief. And maybe due to Ed’s chatter, or the lack thereof. Ed put his plate in the sink, washed his hands, and then promptly collapsed on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I'm not sure if I'm the most qualified to talk about panic attacks/how to deal with them since I haven't had much experience with them but I've found that getting distracted is the best solution. In my AU, Ed is self conscious about automail, since it's linked with a traumatic experience and is not as common as in FMA:B. Liked it? Hated it? Let me know, thanks.


	12. Fall Carnival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed has fun at the carnival.

“Hold up, have any of you actually played volleyball before?” the thought struck Ed in the middle of practice while spinning a ball in his hand. 

“Breda and Feury are on the boy’s team,” Mustang provided, “Jean and I were on the team in our first year but picked up football instead. I think Riza isn’t on the girl’s team but she plays practice matches with them sometimes.”

“Falman is also on the boy’s team.” Feury piped up. Ed’s eye twitched.  _ Falman. _ He shook his head to clear it of his thoughts and then reassessed the team. 

“Do we know how many teams are going to be participating?” he spoke finally, Mustang had a thoughtful look on his face.

“Including ours, I think there are eight.”

“Wait! We should come up with a team name!” Ed exclaimed, yes! This was the best idea he’s had all day! Something cool that strikes fear into other’s hearts, like the… Demon’s Spikes. Nah, Demon wouldn’t work out, Feury was too good for that. The Falcons! Everyone was staring at him. Oh, was he talking out loud?

“Yes, yes you are,” Mustang replied. Oh fuck him. “We can still hear you, Elric. And we are  _ not _ calling ourselves the Demon’s Spikes.”

“The name’s cool as hell, okay?? Think about it, Havoc’s great, I’m great, you’re great, that’s enough!”

“There’s six people on the team, Elric.”

“Well, 50 percent rounds to one!”

Ed was pretty sure he won the argument, but whatever, because they decided on one name: Team Spirit.

“‘Cause we’ll crush their spirits!” Ed crowed. Mustang smacked down his raised arms.

“No, it’s because we couldn’t decide on a stupid fucking name.”

Ed scowled.  _ Just you wait, Mustang, Ed’ll destroy you one day _ . Did he just refer to himself in the third-person? Yes, because Ed is just  _ that _ cool. He tossed the ball to Havoc.

“C’mon, we’re going to work on your jump serve. Try and get a service ace in at the game.”

* * *

“So… how about it?” Al asked eagerly. Ed shook his head furiously while Winry nodded excitedly. Ed sent her a glare.

“Hell no! This is a night for  _ Resembool! _ Havoc, sure, maybe! But Mustang and Hawkeye?!” Ed spat out the name, “they don’t know our traditions!”

“It will be fun! They can learn, it’s a carnival, meant to be shared with  _ friends _ and family!’ Al tried to persuade Ed, but he wouldn’t budge. Nuh-uh, no way! “‘Sides, Granny already agreed! We’ll all have fun, you like competition, don’t you? There will be more than me this time!”

Al stood up suddenly and waltzed over to the next table over. Ed scrambled up to get to them before Al could, nearly knocking Winry over, who was cackling madly. This was not amusing! Ed leapt in front of Al, back bumping into the table in the process. The commotion drew their attention to the brothers. Damn it.

“Elric...s?” Mustang asked with uncertainty, “Is there something we can help you with?”

“Yes! My brother here wants to invite you to attend the Fall Carnival with us!”

“No, I d-” Ed started but then Al slapped a hand over his mouth. Excuse me??

“Pardon? The what?”

“The Fall Carnival! It’s an annual Resembool tradition to celebrate the passing of summer and transitioning into the fall! Of course, you’ll have to stay for the weekend, but-” Al was shoved to the side by Ed, _nice, he shoved him away!_ He was then hip checked by Winry, who appeared at his side. The fuck! She was supposed to be on his side!  


“But! Granny already agreed to this, and we would love to have you!” Winry exclaimed, Ed was fuming. The bell rang, “Oh, it’s the bell! See you later!”

Ed found himself being manhandled out the door and shoved down the hall. Winry and Al cheerfully bid him goodbye and he made his displeasure known as he made a detour to use the restroom. 

He zipped up his pants and moved to wash his hands as the door burst open.

“Ah, beansprout, there you are!” the boy walked toward him and slapped Ed upside the head, “did you miss me, nerd?”

Oh. Fucking  _ Envy _ . Now that Ed thought about it, he hadn’t seen Envy all year. Where had he been? He scrubbed his hands and tried to duck out of the restroom but was blocked by Envy’s arm.

“Not even a ‘hello’? My, you have to work on your manners! I was suspended for a month, thank you for asking.”

“Fuck off, palm tree,” Ed shoved his arm aside and set off for Biology. He heard Envy let out an offended noise in the bathroom.

“Palm- the fuck did you just call me?? Get back here, you brat-” the door slammed shut in the middle of Envy’s screaming. 

Ed let out a quiet sigh of relief when he sat down next to Mustang. He ignored the smirk on Mustang’s face as he charmed the girl sitting at the table behind them. 

“You done?” he grumbled when Mustang turned around. He raised an eyebrow at Ed’s little comment.

“Why, Elric, are you jealous? I didn’t know you cared,” Mustang practically purred, what the- no! Ed was not jealous! “I could sweet talk you, if you’d like.”

Ed could feel the tips of his ears heating up, he shoved Mustang’s smug face out of his face and stared a hole into the board at the front of the room, “Uh, n-no thanks.”

* * *

Mustang and Havoc showed up, Hawkeye absent with the excuse of having to help out her father or something. That was fine, Ed didn’t want to talk to her either way. He glared at Mustang the whole train ride.

“You could just ask for a picture if you wanted to stare at me,” Mustang muttered to him as they gathered their belongings. 

Al wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Ed’s reaction to Mustang, a blush blooming over his cheeks. Havoc joined in next to Al and Ed cursed them all thoroughly. He threw Ed a last wink before stepping off the train.

“Fucking Must-”

“We know you’re horny already, Ed, you don’t need to say it out loud,” Winry sang, that traitor! Ed was beet-red, from ANGER, mind you, not embarrassment, when he exited the train station. 

His face calmed down when they reached the farmers coming up behind them in a truck. 

Ed apologized for his behavior the other day and they waved it off with a laugh.

“It’s fine, Ed! ‘Sides you pointed out the obvious, we set up a high back so they can’t jump out now, we should be sayin’ thanks, if anything!”

Ed chewed on his bottom lip and then gave a nervous smile, “Um, sure? You’re… welcome?”

“We’ll see you tomorrow at the Carnival, right?”

“Yeah!” Al called to the retreating truck, “See you! See, Brother? It turned out all right!”

“I suppose, well, I’m hungry, do we have any pears left?” 

“No, I ate the last one yesterday,” Winry replied, Ed pouted for a moment before heaving a dramatic sigh and pushing open the door.

“Granny! We’re home, and we brought Havoc and Mustang! They have permission, too!” Ed shouted. Granny came down from upstairs with a frown on her face. Was that from the patient room?

“The Pilla twins have been injured,” she informed them, “tractor accident, they’ll have to stay for at least two weeks. We’ll have to figure out new arrangements for Roy and Jean.”

“Since when were you on first name basis with them?” Ed asked, had he missed something? 

The Pilla twins were Kacie and Tyler, their mom had died some time back and so Kacie was a total mom friend, and Tyler did a lot of their farm work with their dad. They owned most of the apple orchards, and they were kind enough to let Team Mustang practice in them. Winry was closer to the twins than Ed was, though Al was probably friends with at least one of them, if not both. 

“We have an extra cot, but that’s about it,” Winry frowned. 

“If it’s going to cause you trouble, then we can leave!” Havoc and Mustang were quick to say, Granny waved off their apologies and continued to think. 

“We have one other cot in the patient room, but I don’t think it’d be best to sleep with the twins there, there’s a lot of blood. If Ed and Al would be willing, they have another bed.”

“Yeah, yeah, I can sleep with Al,” Ed was not happy about this, “But I swear, if either of you snore-”

“Yes, we know, you’ll castrate us in your sleep or something. We get it,” Mustang drawled, how the fuck was he so calm about this? “I can take the cot.”

“Our room is a bit messy though,” Al said thoughtfully, “And it might be a bit of a squeeze but we can fit.”

A thought jumped into Ed’s head and he frowned. He pulled Winry and Al to the side to share. 

“I take off my automail when I sleep.”

“Well, if you would just  _ tell them, _ ” Winry hissed. Ed gave her a look, fuck no! “Well, if you rather sleep with it, then-”

“But it’s uncomfortable!” Ed whined, “And cold! Al would be cold, Winry, cold!”

“Yes, we get the point, Brother, we know what ‘cold’ is,” Al said dryly. Ed continued to complain and Winry threw her hands up.

“Figure it out, Ed!” she exclaimed, Mustang glanced over.

“If you would rather we not, then-”

“Stop being so damn polite, Mustang!” Ed snapped before turning back to Al, who gave an encouraging nod. Ed scrunched up his face before motioning for Havoc and Mustang to take a seat on the couch. 

“I have, well, no it wouldn’t do any good to start there, well, maybe? My arm,- the reason Hawkeye,” Ed stopped trying to explain, “It’d be quicker to just show you.”

He threw his red cloak aside and started taking off his t-shirt.

“Ah, Elric, as much as I enjoy your strip show, perhaps the living room wouldn’t be-”

“Shut the fuck up, Mustang,” he peeled off the skin sleeve from his shoulder port to reveal his arm. Havoc’s jaw dropped open and Mustang’s mouth formed a small ‘o’. “I lost my arm some time ago.”

Havoc’s expression went from shock, to confusion, to realization, and finally to anger. Ed caught his bottom lip between his teeth and began to chew nervously. Al gave him an alarmed look, maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

“Haha! That was a prank, this isn’t actually automail, it’s-” Ed sputtered out quickly. Havoc leapt up and pointed an accusing finger towards Ed.

“You fucking cheater! You beat me in strength and spikes because you have a fake fucking arm! Gah- I can’t believe you!” Havoc cried out. Ed let out a small sigh of relief and his shoulders relaxed for a moment before he turned to Mustang, who had stayed quiet. He had a thoughtful look on his face and a slightly pink tinge to his ears.

“You- you’re fit.”

Ed let out an offended huff, “Of course I am! I work out! Kind of! Where the fuck did you think my strength came from? Willpower?”

“Well, you have a strong  _ prosthetic _ , you cheating brat!” Havoc yelled at him. Ed flashed a mischievous grin towards him. Havoc turned with a huff and crossed his arms, pouting. Mustang also looked away, tips of his ears still pink. 

Ed tugged his shirt back on and left his skin sleeve and jacket on the arm of the couch. He turned to see Al pursing his lips while giving him a look.

“They don’t need to know just yet,” he mumbled as he passed by. Al rolled his eyes. Ed wanted to keep some things to himself, thank you very much, like his leg. 

They both left the room and went upstairs to help Granny shuffled around the beds. Ed lifted his and Al’s bedside drawers out of the way to shove the cot next in between the two beds, a bit space between the three beds. 

Ed sincerely hoped neither of them snored.

“It’s still Friday!” Ed barked as soon as he returned downstairs. Mustang and Havoc jumped from where they sat on the couch, “Training, come on! We’re starting with a light jog to the orchards, today will be just general running drills, since we’re missing Hawkeye.”

* * *

Al was quivering in excitement. Ed laughed at the sight and took Winry and Al by the hand, running headfirst into the busy town. Granny disappeared into the crowd and Mustang and Havoc trailed behind them, taking in the sight. 

Lights were strung up over the buildings, shining bright as the sun hung low in the sky. Stores were closed but in front of them rows of stalls were set up decorated with bright colors, with various raffles and filled with food. 

Winry, who was wearing a dress, rather than her regular tube top and sweatpants combo, with her hair tied up in a high ponytail, purchased a couple kebabs of roast lamb and passed it around. Ed was dressed in a tank top and leather pants, as per usual, with his automail out on display, most people in town already knew anyways. His hair was up in a messy bun piled on top of his head rather than a braid. Al was by is side in an open dress shirt and jeans. Mustang and Havoc were dressed in short sleeves and jeans, Havoc looking right at home in Resembool.

“Come on!” Ed shouted excitedly, “We’ve gotta find the games!”

He herded them all along, but couldn’t stop Al from buying a lot more food for them to munch on. The games were set up a bit outside the town, near the river where there was a lot more space. Ed headed straight for the classic strength tester, where the restaurant owner, Mr. Quinn’s son was drawing a lot of attention.

“Come test your strength! Establish dominance!” he called, “Anyone who can get past 30 gets a prize!” 

Ed sauntered up and stood behind the line of two people. The first got up to 25, but the second only got up to 19. Ed grabbed the mallet and slammed down on the trigger, the small rock shooting up and banging on the bell. 

“So,  _ Quinn _ , about that prize?” he grinned cheekily. 

“Oh my- fucking, ELRIC! You’re banned from the strength games and you know this!” he exclaimed, once he saw who it was. Ed laughed at his exasperated expression.

“Can I try?” Mustang volunteered. Quinn rolled his eyes at Ed and then the mallet out of Ed's hands, handing it over to Mustang. He held the mallet over his head for a second before swinging down with all his force. The rock shot up and clanged against the ball. The crowd around him cheered as Quinn shot him a smile. What?! They never cheered for Ed! Well, he supposed it was because everyone knew he cheated, but  _ still _ .

Quinn let out a low whistle and handed Mustang a stuffed animal, it was a little cat. Ed snorted at the sight.

“Really, Quinn? That’s the best prize you could’ve come up with!”

“Shut it, Elric!” he snapped, “That’s pretty good, I’m Jake Quinn, you’re not around here, are you?”

“Roy Mustang, and no, I’m Edward’s-”   
  


“Elric, Mustang,  _ Elric!” _

“Yes, yes, I’m Elric’s team mate for our school’s Sports Festival.”

“Ah! So you go to the smart people school, too!”

“Stop calling it that, Quinn, Havoc is proof it’s not. And I want to go try some of the other games!” Ed tugged on Al’s arm. 

“Wait, this is for you, Elric,” Mustang held out the stuffed cat, and Ed accepted with a tilt of his head. They ignored Havoc’s indignant cries. 

“Oooh!” Quinn exclaimed, eyes lighting up, he leant forward on the prize table, “You caught yourself a boyfriend, Elric?! Why didn’t you say so?”

Ed’s face flamed up and he shoved the cat back towards Mustang’s chest, “He is not!” 

“He totally thinks you’re hot,” Quinn whispered obviously. Ed shoved his head away from his face. Mustang winked at him and then turned to watch Havoc, who was giving a go at the strength test. “See! He totally thinks you are! Don’t you think he is too, Eddie?”

“Jay- I swear to- fuck you!”

“Oh so you do think he’s hot!”

“Okay fine! He’s nice to look at!” Ed conceded a bit loudly. Mustang turned his head and gave Ed a wide smile.

“Glad you think so, I do try,  _ Eddie _ _!_ ” 

Ed groaned and hid his blushing face in his hands. Al laughed and continued Ed’s conversation with Quinn. Winry had disappeared somewhere between the food stalls and the river, she probably went to go find some of the other girls from town. 

“Well, enough about Ed’s love life, more about mine! So, is Winry reconsidering my offer?” Quinn asked eagerly, Ed and Al rolled their eyes. 

Most of the boys in town proposed to the girls, and had gotten shot down real quick. It was considered a “Resembool tradition”, one of the many, and one of the stupidest. It was a joke that was passed around through the families. Ed never had participated, not since his, ah ~realization~ but Al did. He didn’t know the exact circumstances, but Winry had rejected Al’s marriage proposal and right afterwards Jake Quinn stepped up. 

Ed watched Havoc swing the mallet down and just barely skim the bell.

“No, Winry is rejecting your proposal!” Winry popped back into their conversation, now armed with cotton candy. She handed one to Quinn and one to Ed, who bit down on the cloud candy happily.

“Fuck, wait- that counts right?! That touched the bell!”

“Sorry man, no prize!” 

Ed quickly pushed Havoc in another direction while Mustang made fun of him. They ended up in front of a darts competition, where he immediately offered a game to Havoc, who perked up at the challenge. There were about 30 balloons in front of them, colored differently to represent different points. The person manning the game was the man who ran the Resembool book shop, where Ed and Al frequented (they were always disappointed). Mr. Howard was a surprisingly good shot, and anyone who challenged him and won got a special prize. The other ones could be won by scoring 50 or more points. 

Ed had challenged Mr. Howard each and every year, for at least seven years now, ever since he had finished his training with Teacher. He had lost magnificently each and every time. 

With Havoc, however, now that was a much closer match. With 30 seconds on the clock and armed with five darts, they had to try and get the highest ranking balloons. The easiest way to get the prize was to hit five 15 point balloons, but the average person only could hit one or two per game. Ed’s record was four. His automail shook slightly as he held the dart between his fingers. Damn, he was at a disadvantage. 

He and Havoc both lined up their shots and nodded to Mr. Howard, who started the timer. Both of them launched their first dart. Fuck! Ed’s dart drifted to the side and hit a 10 point balloon. Havoc’s lined up perfectly and pinned the 15 point balloon with a loud pop. 

“Consider this as part of practice!” Ed yelled as he popped a 15 point with his second dart, Al cheered him on and whooped. He launched another dart quickly and cursed loudly as it hit another 10 point. Mr. Howard laughed loudly at Ed as Havoc popped another 15 point. 

“15 seconds!” Mr. Howard called out, and Ed added another 15 points to his total. At the sound Havoc fumbled his fourth dart and missed the balloons completely. Haha! Suck it!

Ed and Havoc both ended with 60 points, Havoc had nailed four 15 point balloons and completely missed one. Ed glared at Havoc as both of them retrieved their prizes. It was always a spiral notebook and a small bag of candy, one of the favorites among the students. Ed popped a caramel into his mouth and sucked on it as Al and Mustang competed, Al winning 60-55.

“C’mon, Mr. Howard, how about it? A rematch?” Ed offered, Mr. Howard laughed and cracked his knuckles before blowing up a few more balloons to make up for the ones Al and Mustang had popped.

“I was waiting for that, it makes my day, it does. Hey, Pinako!” he called over their heads. Granny waded through the crowd and appeared by Ed’s side.

“Ah, so the speck has challenged you again?”

“Who the fuck are you calling so small-” Al slapped a hand over Ed’s mouth before he could get even more riled up and shoved him toward the game. Granny held the timer as Mr. Howard stepped out of the booth to stand next to Edward. They both gathered five darts.

“Ready? Go!”

Mr. Howard won. Again. Ed swore that he would come back next year and beat him. Again. For the seventh time. 

Winry dragged him to the next game, apple bobbing.

“Could you get  _ any _ more country?” Mustang laughed, Ed flipped him off. 

“Shut the fuck up! Apple bobbing is a classic, and it’s fucking awesome!” Ed shouted. Havoc defended the game while Al and Winry competed. Al won, and Ed clapped him on the back. Yeah, it was kind of unsanitary, but it was fun, okay?! Winry and Al both laughed as they wiped water off their faces and brushed their wet hair back. Winry gave Al a hug and then pushed the group to the next game. 

The five of them made their way through archery, shooting hoops, won a scavenger hunt, and ended up back in town. 

“Let’s go to the town square!” Winry shouted over the crowd. Al quickly agreed and slowly music became louder and louder as they made their way closer toward the town square. Everyone cheered and cleared off the dance floor, clapping, as the song ended. 

“Dance with me, Brother!” Al yelled. Ed couldn’t say no to those eyes, and found himself dragged into the center, “It’s the song! The one Dad always played!” 

While he was around, one of Mom’s favorite things to do was dance, as Hohenheim knew how to play the fiddle. They spun around and around in circles before switching partners, and then switching back to your original partner. Ed preferred not to end up with a random stranger, but if Al wanted to, then why the hell not?!

Ed bowed down the Al as the song started up, and Al curtsied back before starting to laugh. It had originated as a dance meant for a lady and a gentleman, but soon it developed into one between friends and family, meant for fun instead of the ballroom. Some things never changed, though. 

Ed moved forward and spun Al around, dodging Mr. Hanley’s pointy elbows. The song hit the second movement, where they changed partners. Al spun Ed around and when he let go he found himself face to face with Mustang.

“Thought you didn’t know any of our country traditions?” Ed grinned and curtsied this time, he couldn’t be sour, not tonight. 

“Jean dragged me in, said to grant him some childhood nostalgia, I’ve been trying to keep up ever since,” Mustang replied, bowing back. He spun Ed around a bit too quickly, a beat too early as well, but Ed couldn’t find the energy to be mad at him. He could feel pieces of hair falling out of his messy bun but he just brushed them back. Ed let go of Mustang’s hand when the music changed once more and returned back to Al, who was smiling brightly. 

“Did you just dance with Rosalie?” Ed asked, Al nodded. Rosalie was one of the nicest girls in the world, and that wasn’t something Ed said often. She and Al both got along like peas in a pod, the two of them together would be enough to send anyone on a sugar high. The musicians ended the song with a flourish and Ed cheered with the rest of the crowd with a cheer and a round of applause. He was fairly sure he looked like a flushed mess, but he brushed off the thought and went to find Winry. 

He ran into Quinn along the way.

“I just got to dance with Winry!” he said as Ed passed, “She’ll be the one proposing any day now, mark my words!”

“No, I won’t, Jake!” Ah, there she was! Ed snatched Mustang’s arm out of the crowd and pulled him and Havoc back out of town. 

“The fireworks are starting in a bit!” Al yelled over the noise.

“There’s fireworks?!” Mustang asked. Havoc elbowed him in the side.

“Of course there are! What good carnival  _ doesn’t _ end with fireworks?!”

“I want to get some more kebabs, I’ll be right back!” Ed ducked out, and Mustang followed him to the stall. He handed exchanged a few cenz, pushed Mustang back around, and set back out to find the group.

“Elric, wait,” Mustang grabbed his hand and pulled him down a side street between two stalls. He pulled out Ed’s bun and brushed his hands through his hair. Ed blushed at the contact, as he tied his hair back up. “I’ve been wanting to do that for the longest time.”

“Let’s get going, dork, or they’ll start to wonder where we’ve gone,” Ed rushed out, bumping Mustang back into the slowly thinning crowd. 

They found Winry, Al, and Havoc, already down at the riverside, sitting on a blanket Granny had thought to grab before they had left. Granny was probably still out mingling, having seen the fireworks display a thousand times over. 

As the fireworks popped, bright colors illuminating the sky, Ed reflected back on the day. Maybe inviting Mustang wasn’t the worst idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this you don't even know. This is like a mega chapter compared to the other ones, nearly double the word count. I probably won't post tomorrow so there's a heads up. Liked it? Hated it? Let me know! Thanks :)


	13. A Heart to Heart But Just One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed becomes friends with Havoc and talks to Mustang.

Ed woke up wrapped around Al, who was trying to shove him off. He only had two limbs, what the fuck, Al. He guessed he must’ve said that out loud because then Al started hissing at him.

“You’re heavy, okay!”

“’s  _ muscle _ , Al! Yer-a twig, ya’know?”

“Whatever,” Al shoved Ed off easily, now that he was no longer dead weight. “don’t wake up our guests.”

Guests..? Oh, Ed turned to his other side and met Mustang’s back. He sat up and attached his leg that Al handed him quickly and sat staring over Mustang’s form at Havoc, who was sleeping on his back, in Ed’s bed. He was once again shirtless. Ed admired his body. Did these people do everything? Sure, Ed was considered well-rounded, but it seemed Havoc and Mustang actually knew absolutely everything.  


He didn’t know how long he sat there dumbly, but soon Havoc started to stir and opened his eyes to see Ed staring at him. He watched the other blonde blink a few times before reaching up to run his fingers through his hair as he yawned.

“G’mornin’, Elric. Would be nice if you didn’t gawk at me this early,” he muttered. Ed felt his face heating up, but he couldn’t really do anything about that. He watched Havoc sit there for a moment just staring back at Ed. 

He pulled on a clean shirt and got up, immediately tripped on a bag on the floor. Ed sniggered as Havoc stumbled around trying to get back up.

“Ed, hurry up, you and Havoc have to go to the market today,” Winry whispered as she passed their open door.

“Me?” Havoc asked, righting himself and heading toward the bathroom in the hall, “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Mneh. Why the fuck would we trust Mustang?” Ed mumbled before flipping onto his stomach to try and reach his pants on the floor.

“There coffee?”

“No.”

“Fuck.” 

* * *

Ed led Havoc back to the old house, and showed him how to pick beans, tomatoes, and the squash. They walked into town to see that last night’s festivities had spilled into this morning.

The main street and town square were both a bit of a mess, with streamers and trash littering the ground, the stalls were still up, but only about half of them were occupied for the weekend’s market. 

“Why don’t you use your arm?” Havoc wondered aloud. That was direct, okay. Ed’s shoulder rolled at the mention of the missing limb. He shrugged at the question.

“Don’t know, never really needed to. It’s heavy and draws attention.”

“Doesn’t a missing arm draw more attention?”

Ed shrugged again, the people in town just saw it and went ‘okay’, no one really asked questions. Everyone in Resembool knew each other, more or less, and so news of what had happened to Trisha Elric and her boys had spread like wildfire, there wasn’t that much to gossip about besides from ‘hey did you hear the farmers lost their sheep’.

“Don’t you normally have games on Sundays?” Ed asked in return, how come Havoc and Mustang were free for the entire weekend?

“Oh, yeah, and we normally have Saturday practices too. The coaches are banding together for the announcement of the Sports Festival. They should be in Central right now to figure out the events and when it’ll take place. We have the weekend off.”

“Oh, nice, I have to go to the butcher’s first. Can you go get two dozen eggs? Two stalls down on the right,” Ed headed over to buy lamb and returned to find Havoc nowhere in sight. He sighed and walked down the street to find whoever was selling eggs this week. Most people in Resembool had chickens, but they didn’t always have more to sell. The egg seller rotated around three families, mostly. The Pillas, the Hanleys, and the Levins. The Pillas were out, seeing as the twins were in the Rockbell house and so their father suddenly had double the workload. The Hanleys were probably still stuck somewhere with their fucking sheep so Levin it was.  


He found Havoc with Bella Levin, flirting. She practically had heart-eyes as she smiled at Havoc.  


“Hey, Bella, sorry about Havoc, see you!” Ed threw a few cenz at her and pushed Havoc along.

"Ed, why didn't you tell me city boys were so handsome?"

Ed snorted but continued to shove Havoc down the street, away from Bella.

“Hey!” he whined, “We were just talking!”

“See you later, Jean!” she called behind them. Ed stared at Havoc.

“Oh really,  _ Jean _ , just talking?”

“She’s a perfectly fine girl, with a perfectly fine, er-”

“Good lord, just keep going.”

Apparently, ‘keep going’, to Havoc, meant stopping every pretty lady on the street and asking them all on dates, regardless of the fact he didn’t even live in Resembool. Ed was just glad Rosalie wasn’t at the market today. Havoc would’ve been over the moon at the sight of her.

“You shallow asshole!” A girl slapped Havoc across his face. Ed was wheezing, cackling in the middle of the street, watching Havoc’s disbelieving face. 

“Elric-” Havoc grumbled, nursing his red cheek.

“Ed,” he offered, “You can call me Ed.”

Havoc smiled, “Then you can call me Jean.”

“What happened to that Rose girl??” Ed complained, hefting a basket full of fruit over his shoulder. Havoc swung his bucket back and forth as he walked back towards the Rockbell’s house at Ed’s side.

“Mm, she’s still hung up over her ex, can’t tell anything, she gets really sad and happy every time you bring him up. Too much work,” he replied. Ed scoffed but didn’t comment on it. They continued to make idle chatter, about the upcoming Sports Festival, about their siblings, anything that came to their mind. Havoc was easy to talk to, he had an opinion on about anything and everything and wasn’t afraid to share, much like Ed himself.

“WE’RE BACK- oh hey Mustang,” Ed yelled as he kicked open the door. Mustang was on the other side, eyes wide in shock. Oh, he did kick open the door… “nice reflexes you’ve got there.”

“The fuck, Elric?” He grumbled before taking the basket from Ed’s hands. Al poked his head out from the back room, he was probably keeping Winry company while she worked.

“Did he kick the door open again? We keep a five meter radius from the door at all times now,” Al unloaded the basket and put away all the fruit before doing the same with the bucket Havoc, no, Jean, was carrying.

“Shut up, Al, we also got more eggs,” Ed took the basket Al was holding before nudging the door open with his foot, “be right back.”

He hummed to himself as he walked by himself to his old house. Upon reaching it Ed balanced the basket on his shoulder while he fished for the keys with his free hand. He unlocked the front door and stepped inside, bypassing the living room and Hohenheim’s study in favor of the kitchen. He set down the basket on the counter and looked around. The dinner table was covered in a thin layer of dust, Al would probably come by sometime this week to tidy up again.

If it were up to Ed, he would’ve burned it down as soon as he was able to walk again, but Granny insisted on keeping the house and maintaining it. Al had agreed and swung by biweekly to clean the place. Winry sometimes came as well, but Ed avoided it as much as he could. 

A voice calling the house broke his train of thought.

“Elric? Elric?” Mustang called from outside. Ed cleared his throat and made his way back to the front door.

“Mustang? What’re you doing here?”

He held out a bucket to Ed, “Elric #2 said you forgot this and told me to bring it over.”

Ed accepted it and turned around to walk back through the house. He waved for Mustang to follow him. Through the back of the kitchen was a door leading to Mom’s small garden. He placed the bucket on the ground under the tap sticking out of the house and then returned to the kitchen. 

Where the fuck did Mustang go. He left him for literally two seconds.

Ed wandered around the house, he wouldn’t be upstairs, Mustang had manners and was far too polite. Not the study, either, the door was closed. That left the living room, and there he was, standing in front of the mantle.

There wasn’t anything that interesting on it, a few knickknacks, like a small wooden bird Hohenheim had carved long ago, and a few pictures. The only ones there were pictures of him, Al, and Hohenheim. 

When he and Al had moved into the Rockbell’s house, Ed had refused to have any pictures of Hohenheim transferred. Winry managed to convince him to take one of all four of them over, the only photo, actually, but then Ed had pinned another picture over Hohenheim’s face. 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Mustang started, “what happened?”

Ed heaved a sigh, “It’s a long story.”

Mustang looked up at him.

“I have time.”

Ed watched Mustang for a moment before jerking his head to the side, indicating for Mustang to move to the kitchen. Ed pulled out a few rags from the bathroom and wetted them.

“Basically, when Al and I were like 4 and 5 our father walked out,” Ed threw a rag at Mustang, who caught it and followed his lead. He began wiping down the table, not like he had anything better to do. “Hohenheim was kind of a shit dad, always in his study, Al doesn’t remember that much though. Apparently, around that time Mom got sick and hid it really well from us, because we didn’t know about it for years. Al and I trained with Teacher, Mrs. Curtis, that is, for like half a year about two or three years after he left I think? And Mom got treatment during that time so we never knew. She didn’t actually tell us until I was like, 11, and we took a road trip, up to East City.”

Ed moved on to the counters, “I was kind of an annoying shit back then, and I talked a lot. Stuff like, ‘are we there yet? Are we there yet?’ The whole way through. Long story short on our way back I was bugging her and Mom didn’t see the drunk driver plowing into our car. Lost my arm, lost Mom, end of sob story.”

Ed left the room to go wipe down the tables in the living room and the mantle. He didn’t hear Mustang say anything for the next half an hour. 

When Mustang finally spoke, it was to comment on the time.

“The sun’s starting to set, I think we should head back,” he suggested as Ed rinsed their rags. He grunted in acknowledgement and turned off the tap before exiting the house and waited until Mustang did the same. He locked the door behind them and turned to face Mustang.

“Race ya,” he grinned, setting off before Mustang could say anything.

“Wait w- ELRIC YOU CHEATER!” Mustang spluttered behind him. Ed laughed and ran faster, it was a tad too hot for his liking today, but hopefully that would change by the time the Festival came around. He hoped it wouldn’t rain. Rain sucked, it made his ports ache, it rusted his automail, and it made him wet. 

“Pick up the pace, Mustang, or I’ll boot you from the team!” Ed yelled behind him. He heard the other boy swear before upping his pace. They finished side by side, Ed kicking the door open to the house.

“Have fun?” Al raised an eyebrow from the kitchen. Ed rolled his eyes before washing his hand to help. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really care for this chapter but Mustang knows about Ed and is just like ... I don't like the chapter title either but I couldn't think of anything better. Liked it? Hated it? Let me know, thanks :)


	14. Are You Putting Flowers in My Hair?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed find out tennis is added to the events and gets his hair done.

“Shit fuck shit fuckin’ hell,” Ed muttered as he sped through waking up and taking a shower. He tripped over Mustang’s fucking pants and faceplanted onto the ground with a thud. 

  


“Jean, Mustang, wake the fuck up,” he snarled, “if you gon’ take a shower do it now or we’ll be late, use the one in the hall, use ours, whatever the fuck.”

  


“I miss the city,” Mustang grumbled as he stood up, blankets falling onto the floor. He scratched the back of his head before nudging Jean and stumbling into his and Al’s bathroom.

  


Jean darted into the hall to use that bathroom, as there were three in the house. 

  


Ed and Al shared the master bedroom, which had been uninhabited for about seven years before the brothers moved in. The master bedroom had it’s own bathroom connected to it, Granny and Winry shared one between their rooms, and there was one in the hall next to the patient room, should they ever be healthy enough to actually move around. 

  


Ed tumbled down the stairs with two bags in hand, hair flying behind him. He quickly poured himself some coffee and spooned in some sugar. Mustang popped in by his side, hair still dripping wet. He made grabby hands at the coffee pot and Ed handed it over while inhaling the liquid energy. 

  


Winry shoved a piece of toast into each of their mouths while passing and then set the rest of the plate on the table, where Al and Jean shoved a few pieces of bread into their mouths.

  


“I fucking hate being a student,” she muttered, drinking her own cup of coffee. 

  


“Hear hear,” they replied in unison. Granny didn’t make an appearance until 10 minutes until the train to pack them lunch and herd them out of the house. 

  


They boarded the train quickly and shoved themselves onto two benches.

  


Ed fucking hated the middle seat. He despised it with a passion and had a ten point argument as to why it was the absolute worst and only two person seats should exist. To name a few: who the fuck wants to be wedged between two people?? The window seat could see the outside, sure it was okay, but it got boring. You couldn’t see  _ anything _ from the middle, unless you wanted to stare at someone’s shoulder for an hour. The aisle seat could come and go as they pleased, fucking awesome, but being in the middle meant always disturbing at least one person. Another, the train benches were hard as fuck and if it wasn’t hard to fall asleep on them before. It was even harder when it was with 90% certainty that you would end up falling onto some random person while asleep. Then after that-

  


“Did you do your Drama script?” Mustang muttered to him. Ed nodded.

  


“'Course we had like a month to do it.”

  


“Can I copy it?”

  


“Brother, can I braid your hair?”

  


“Sure, Al. Mustang, the fuck- we had a month of class time the fuck were you doing with it.”

  


“Well in my defense there were some very pretty-”

  


“I don’t need to know- holy shit you smell good,” Ed turned at Al’s instruction, who was gathering his hair, to find his nose pressed against Mustang’s shoulder.

  


“Elric, I smell like  _ you _ ,” he replied, glancing down at Ed sniffing his shoulder.

  


“I smell fucking amazing,” Ed stated, tilting his head up to smell the insanely strong apple scent. In Mustang’s words, yes he was that fucking country.

  


“If you can stop flirting,” Winry said loudly, “some of us are trying to sleep.”

  


“Shut the fuck up.”

  


* * *

  


“THEY ADDED FUCKING TENNIS TO THE EVENTS,” Ed roared as he bust into the gym mid-volleyball practice. Feury dropped the ball he was holding in surprise.

  


“Ah, so you’ve decided to show up then, Elric?” Mustang called, walking over to where he stood, “Also,  _ tennis?  _ Since when?”

  


“Since today, apparently!” Ed slammed down the packet he had gotten during the unofficial ‘assembly’. He had just come from the announcement of the Sports Festival as the Team Spirit representative, since Mustang had claimed he ‘knew the whole thing back to back, no use for me to go’. And between the time Mustang had learned the events from back to back and now, the fucking gym people had added another game. 

  


Between Team Mustang, Team Spirit, and whatever the fuck the football and soccer players were calling themselves, they had covered every single event with the exception of basketball, which none of them were particularly interested in. Even then, Havocand Breda were both on one of those teams anyways. And now they had to add a tennis team. 

  


“Fuuuck,” Havoc complained, “We had enough events already!”

  


“We have to submit ourselves as participants in each event by the end of the week too,” Ed joined in the complaining. Mustang rolled his eyes before calling Hawkeye over to join their wailing fest.

  


“Have you any of you played tennis before?”

  


“Kind of, Teacher had us do everything,” Ed replied, “Oh yeah, there's also two different tennis events, solos and doubles, don't think gender matters. I’m guessing since we only have a month not many people will be entering, so three games each at most.”

  


“I don’t know anything about tennis,” Jean admitted. Well, shit, that left himself, Mustang and Hawkeye.

  


“We could try Elric and Hawkeye on doubles, and myself in singles,” Mustang proposed. Hawkeye and Jean agreed quickly, before turning to Ed expectantly. He didn’t want to play with Hawkeye. He really didn’t want to play with Hawkeye. And he kind of sucked at tennis.  


  


“You? In singles? How ironic,” Ed replied at last. It wasn’t confirmation, nor was it outright shooting down the idea. Mustang rolled his eyes before he grinned.

  


“You know it, Elric,” Mustang threw him a wink as he turned back to the volleyball net, “Did you get the registration forms?”

  


“Underneath the packet, I grabbed 6, you might need more for the other teams, though, but not right now. Hey! We’re going to work on setting and spikes. Mustang, Hawkeye, you’re setting, everyone else is spiking. ‘Specially you, Feury.”

  


* * *

  


He didn’t know how he got here, but two days later Ed was hanging upside down underneath the bleachers next to Ha- Jean, with Mustang standing in front of him with a stopwatch in his hand. Jean’s face was very red, and his eyes were watering as they hit the one-minute mark. Ed was sure he didn’t look that different. 

  


“Why the fuck,” he managed, “am I spending study hall doing this, and not homework?”

  


“Stop talking,” Jean replied. Ed ignored him and continued talking, regardless of the fact it would probably make him lose.

  


“And why the fuck, are you doing this, and not the math  _ classwork _ you neglected?” he asked Mustang, who very pointedly looked away and held up the stopwatch in his hand.

  


“That’s a 20 second penalty, Elric, no questions are to be asked during this competition, as was stated before we started.”

  


Ed supposed this started when Winry had hurriedly informed him that she had already agreed to spend study hall with some friends at the beginning of the week, and had forgotten to inform Ed until now. So as the only logical solution, Ed started to wander around the school, ducking into bathrooms when teachers were nearby, in search of something to do. 

  


During said wandering, he had bumped into Jean, who had claimed that he held the school record for hanging upside down. To which Ed immediately challenged him. And now he was here, hanging upside down on the back of the bleachers next to the football field. 

  


“Jean, if you don’t win then I’ll make you run 10 laps next practice,” Mustang threatened, crouching down in front of his face.

  


“Jean,” Ed parroted, “if you don’t lose then  _ I’ll _ make you run 15 laps next practice.”

  


He was fairly sure his legs were going numb. But Elrics didn’t back down from challenges, well not Elrics, just Ed and Al. His hair hung uncomfortably, the tight braid pulling at the bottom of his head almost painfully. He blamed Winry, who had rebraided it during lunch, she always did it a tad too tight.

  


Jean looked like his head was about to combust. Ed started to recite the elements to distract from the pounding sensation in his head. Sometime around manganese Havoc let out a breath and collapsed on the ground. Ed let out a loud shout and unwrapped his legs from the beam, narrowly avoiding dropping on his head by tucking into a roll.  


“You guys good?” he heard Mustang asked. The world was spinning, and not in a fun way. Ed laid on the ground and stared at Mustang, who was waving a hand in his face.

  


“Did- did I break his record?”

  


“No, you were 13 seconds short.”

  


“FUCK, all that for nothing?” Ed sat up and looked around, the football field was deserted, but he could see students on the track in the distance, with Teacher’s yelling mixing in, “Are we even allowed to be here?”

  


Mustang made a so-so motion with his hands, “Well… not really, but kind of?”

  


“Ominous,” Ed snorted, “Do you have any water? I think Jean’s going to pass out.”

  


“Am not!’ he exclaimed, sitting up and then leaning against the pole supporting the bleachers, “My legs fucking hurt though.”

  


Ed pulled out his braid and massaged the back of his head, why couldn’t Winry be more like Al? Why couldn’t everyone be more like Al? New Year's Resolutions, everyone! Havoc invited himself over and scooted behind Ed. He started to comb through his hair and coo over it.

  


“Why’s yours so soft? I want hair like this!”

  


“Good genes,” Ed replied, he still hated them, however ‘good’ they were, “Are you putting fucking flowers in my hair?”

  


“Shut up, I know what I’m doing,” Havoc continued to thread his fingers through Ed’s hair while Mustang watched them. 

  


“Hurry up, bell’s ‘bout to ring.”

  


Havoc tied up the end with Ed’s hair tie and instead of a braid, it was a bun. Presumably with flowers woven into it, he couldn’t really tell. Ed picked up his bookbag and swung it over his shoulder, giving Jean a hand to pull him up. 

  


“You look quite nice, Elric,” Mustang commented, tugging on the bangs framing his face. Ed scowled and swatted at the hands in front of his face.

  


“Fucking bastard, go talk to one of your girlfriends.”

  


“I’m always open for a boyfriend!”

  


“Oh my- fuck off!” Ed’s face heated up again as he stomped away. He ran into someone and started to mutter out an apology, “Sorry- oh hey Al.”

  


“Brother,” he greeted, “Your hair looks nice, where were you?”

  


“Study hall, Jean did my hair, I have to turn here, see you later,” Ed waved a hand over his shoulder and split from Al, only to be stopped right as he turned.

  


“ _ Jean _ , huh?” Envy smirked, god, how Ed wanted to punch his smug face. But then last time he had done it, Envy had gotten his little “Homonculus” buddies to act as witnesses and turn it into a sob story against Ed, landing him into detention for a week, “Why, Elric, you never told me about a little boyfriend!”

  


“Fuck off, Envy, I have to get to class,” Ed tried to side step Envy, who just moved to the side to block his path once again.

  


“Would _Jean_ like you if he were to... find out? ” Envy leaned down and whispered. A threat, maybe? Well jokes on him Havoc already knew. 

  


Ed shoved him to the side and ran, disappearing into the flow of students before Envy could cry wolf. Fucking- Envy was the absolute worst, no, that was too kind of a title, Envy was a subpar human, not even adequate enough to shear a sheep. Envy probably thought sheep were disgusting. 

  


Sheep were definitely disgusting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of hate Envy, except I don't know how to write him unlikable and how do people have creative insults on hand?? Ed had very nice long hair that everyone likes to touch. Filler chapter alert! Liked it? Hated it? Let me know! Thanks :)


	15. Terrible at Tennis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed sucks at tennis.

“We don’t have anywhere to practice,” Ed realized. 

This was a problem, to say the least. 

When Mustang had no solution, it was up to Ed to find a court. The first person to check was obviously Teacher, to try and get her to reserve the tennis courts for them. She had no power over that, sadly. But she factored into the second plan, since she was able to get him the roster for the tennis team. Now was to see if he knew anyone.

Good news: he knew somebody on the tennis team. Bad news: it was Russell Tringham. The fucking asshole. He was probably worse than Mustang.

“Heyyyy there, Tringham!” Ed plastered a wide smile on his face, “I heard you’re on the tennis team!”

“The fuck you want, Elric?” he grumbled, hunched over a worksheet. The great thing about smart people was that generally, they were in the same classes. Because of this, Ed could pull a Mustang: stalk Tringham in each and every class and then annoy him into submission. 

“Well you see, the Sports Festival is coming up, and tennis has been added as an event, isn’t that fun?”

“Drop the cheerleader attitude, it’s creepy.”

“Shut the fuck- I mean, whatever do you mean? I’m always like this!” Ed caught the little slip up and tried to make up for it by batting his lashes. He could hear Mustang’s sniggering and gave him the finger from behind his back. Ed kept the sickly sweet smile on his face and swore he could hear Hawkeye disguise a laugh.

“Cut the bullshit, what do you want, I’m trying to work here,” Tringham snarled. Ed dropped the facade and rolled his eyes.

“Can you get us the tennis court for an afternoon?”

“And why should I?”

“You owe me, for that time with the shop teacher and for that time at the grocery store,” Ed pulled the same card Mustang used. In his first year, Ed supposed he had garnered some sort of… reputation? To gain the shop teacher’s favor, Tringham had used Ed’s name to sweet talk him out of something, use the classroom when it was empty, whatever the fuck. Ed didn’t know but he did get Tringham out of trouble and away from the teacher’s wrath. Then the grocery store, where Russell had picked a fight with some poor city kid and ended up knocking an entire display of canned goods onto Ed, who had jumped in front of his brother, Fleck or something.

“Hm, no.”

The fucking asshole?? Ed let out a strangled noise, “The fuck you mean, no? This isn't a joke, Tringham!”

“Ah! So what I'm gathering, is that you want this pretty badly?” Tringham was practically purring. Ed was practically burning.

“You already owe me, asshole!”

“Elric, language! And quiet down!” the math teacher yelled at him. The class went quiet as Ed snapped to attention. 

“Uh… yes, sir?”

Tringham started cackling at Ed, who scowled and smacked the table to get his attention.

“Is that a yes or no, asswipe?”

“Fine, fine, but I get to pull a favor from you at whatever time.”

“Fucking hell- how’s this, you can get a favor from  _ Mustang _ at any time, he can do more for you than I can.”

“Oh, score! Hell yeah, it’s probably free today, no one will care that you’re there because the tennis team is always trying to get pot from the Homonculus.”

“You asshole,” Mustang hissed at him as Ed returned to their table, “I never agreed to this!”

“I never agreed to joining the team, yet here I am,” Ed replied, “Do we even have tennis rackets? Balls?”

“Jean probably has some, I think one of his sisters used to play,” Hawkeye pitched in. She was trying very hard to catch Ed’s eye, but he avoided her gaze, staring at the next problem on his worksheet. 

“Cool, thing is: Jean and I have football today,” Mustang frowned. Ed frowned. Oh fuck. Would he be left alone with Hawkeye? It’s not like he had a problem with her, he just… had a problem with her.

“Uh, maybe we can postpone, then? Until next-”

“Practice lasts until five, you’re playing doubles with Hawkeye, anyways. We’ll come to you. Wait, is Mrs. Rockbell going to be okay with you staying in East City?”

“Um, I- yeah, Granny should be fine,” Ed gave in without a fight. His tennis was bad, actually bad, not like how he would yell that Falman was bad. It had been years since he’d last touched a tennis racket, he and Al preferred to keep up their physical states with sparring rather than any actual sports. Maybe football or soccer with some of the other boys in town, but that was it.

“Awesome, I’ll let Jean know at lunch.”

“Yes, Brother, we’ll let Granny know, now get to the tennis court and  _ talk. To. Hawkeye, _ ” Al insisted, pushing him in the direction of the sports fields.

“Wait, what? I don’t need to talk to Hawk- and you’re gone. Yeah, love you bye thanks so much,” Ed grumbled sarcastically to himself. 

He made three detours on his way to the tennis court, two through the school, the first when he discovered his bladder was full and the second when he  _ accidentally _ spilled his entire water bottle in the bathroom and had to fill it back up. The third was to find Tringham, to make sure that yes, the tennis court is open, and fuck off, no you can’t watch us practice.

“Elric, it’s nearly a quarter until four, we agreed to meet as soon as school ended,” Hawkeye’s voice was distinctly annoyed, and she was bouncing a ball against her racket. Ed grunted out an apology and began to do basic stretches, “Wait, before we start, I wanted to talk to you about something. The time on the train, I know you said it was fine, but-”

“Alright, the tennis event is best of three sets, and I want to see how good you are at tennis, so a one on one… not that there’s anyone else here… yeah, let’s go,” Ed rushed out before Hawkeye could finish her sentence. He snatched up the other racket laying on the ground and a ball.

“Alright, your serve,” he called behind him. He could feel Hawkeye’s uncertainty radiating off of her. Regardless, she gave a decent serve, bouncing on the right side of the court. Ed adjusted his footing and returned the ball, wincing when he nearly hit it out of the court, barely skimming the line. 

Now it was his serve, Ed picked up the ball and decided to play it safe with an underhand serve. Hawkeye lasted for about 10 minutes before cracking.

“Alright! Stop it!” Hawkeye snapped, “Elric, you fucking suck! I thought you knew how to play tennis!”

“I do, just not well!”

“The  _ fuck?! _ ” 

“Sorry, fuck, I haven’t played tennis is a long time, okay? I need practice, I can get Al to practice with me,” Ed replied. Was it sad that this was one of the longest conversations they’ve had in weeks? Yes, it most likely was.

“Try and loosen up, if you hold the racket too tightly you’ll hurt your wrist when you make contact with the ball.”

Ed nodded in acknowledgement and adjusted his grip. He chanced an overhand serve and grimaced when it hit the net and gave him the chance to try another serve. He threw up the ball, swung his racket and-

“YO! RIZA! ED!” Havoc yelled from the entrance. 

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” Ed swore as the ball dropped and bounced away, racket still frozen mid swing.  


“I’m here to watch and cheer you on!”

“Whoopee,” he muttered sarcastically, “‘fraid there’s not much for you to cheer for on this end.”

“Believe him, he sucks at tennis.”

“Ooh, if Riza said so then it must be true. You really that bad, Ed?” Havoc jogged to his side of the court and clapped both hands on his shoulders. “I believe in you.”

“Your belief won’t do shit.”

Ed was pretty sure Havoc’s belief turned into disbelief,

“But… you’re good at everything!” Havoc exclaimed loudly, eyes wide. Ed glared at him, wow, thanks.

“Shut up,  _ Havoc _ , just because the court is empty doesn’t mean we actually have permission to use it. Hawkeye, again!” Ed called for another serve from her and she obliged. Ed quickly ran forward and returned the ball. Okay, maybe this one wouldn’t be so bad. Hawkeye hit the ball near the backline and Ed shuffled back. The ball hit the racket at a weird angle and Ed’s wrist bent back.

“Ow, fuck!”

“You already shift your footing, but you could take it a step further, turn your body so that it’ll be easier for you to hit it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Ed took his stance once more as Hawkeye prepared to serve. 

“I’m told that I’m a great teacher!” Mustang called from Hawkeye’s side of the court.

“Shut the fuck up!”

“DON’T TAKE YOUR EYES OFF THE BALL ELRIC.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno, Ed just sucks at it. This chapter is the shortest one so far, I'm pretty sure, so sorry about that, and it's pretty dull. Russell Tringham and Edward Elric hate each other. Liked it? Hated it? Let me know, thanks :)


	16. Rainy Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed gets caught in the rain before the Sports Festival.

Three weeks until the Sports Festival. Envy kicked him in the shin. He kicked Ed’s automail, it broke his foot and Ed got detention for a week. A week’s worth of training time wasted writing lines and “contemplating his actions”. No one could prove that he snuck out for tennis.  _ No one.  _ He practiced for the pole vault event by jumping a lot. If he tried to do handstand pushups and collapsed on the ground, well, Al wouldn’t tell.

* * *

Two weeks until the Sports Festival. Ed found out that pressure freaked Jean out, and anytime he yelled ‘15 seconds left’ Jean immediately drops and/or misses whatever he’s doing. Ed spent most of his training days in Resembool playing tennis against Mustang and Al with Hawkeye. He finally perfected his handstand pushups but fell over anyways to knock Mustang over and kick him in the head.

* * *

One week until the Sports Festival. Hawkeye finally deemed Ed adequate at tennis, and Havoc officially became the best volleyball player out of all of Team Spirit. Mustang bought Winry a cake for her birthday and she nearly passed out. Ed snuck into the pole vault team’s practice and attempted to copy their best player’s run up, only to fall flat on his face. 

* * *

One day until the Sports Festival.

“Holy shit holy shit holy shit,” Jean paced back and forth on the train station, flailing his hands around as he panicked. Winry was walking around next to him, wringing her hands while she panicked, just internally.

“Winry, why the fuck are you nervous? You’re not even participating!’

“You’re not panicking so I’m doing it for you!” she snapped back. Mustang clapped a hand onto Jean’s shoulder and placed another onto Winry’s, pulling them both to a stop facing him.

“We have the best team in the entire school, Jean, you and Edward are two of the best athletes in East City.”

Mustang’s assurance seemed to do the job, as Jean’s nervous tics were downgraded to just leg shaking and Winry sat on the train near silently.

“It’s still  _ Elric _ to you, Mustang,” Ed muttered to him, stuck in the middle seat once again, “My hand’s fucking shaking and I don’t know why.”

“Nerves are perfectly normal,  _ Elric _ , we just can’t let it affect our performances.”

“You sound like a fucking shrink,” Ed stared at his left hand and willed it to stay still. His ports started aching as he did so, maybe that was also nerves? Ed had never participated in something like this before, is this what everyone else went through? He spent the rest of the train ride tensing his hand to make it stay still. 

Somebody nudged his shoulder and shook Ed out of his stupor. He looked up to see Hawkeye standing with her bag and Jean already stepping off.

“Yes? Oh, we’re here?” he asked, Hawkeye nodded in affirmation. Ed followed her off the train and walked behind her, staring intently at her heels, all the way up to the house. 

After dropping their bags off at the house and retrieving the water bottles Granny had set out for them, the four took a seat underneath an apple tree in the orchard. 

“So,” Mustang broke the silence, “it all comes down to tomorrow. Our goal is to win as many events as possible, each year it's always the fourth or third years that go to Central. We want to change that and embarrass everyone.”

“You could’ve said something like, to ‘leave our mark on the school, an inspiring tale for generations to come’ or some motivational shit like that,” Ed grumbled.

“I thought ‘honesty is the best policy’?” Mustang retorted, “Either way, we’ve been preparing for this event since the beginning of school. Depending on how it goes, this may be the last practice we ever have. Let’s make it count. Elric?”

“Right, today we will be taking it easy, just recording times and practice matches for whatever events we’re participating in. We’re starting with stretches, and afterward Mustang is up first for his 50 meter.” 

Cycling through the stretches was a quick affair, and Ed fished out a stopwatch from one of his pockets and handed it to Hawkeye. He jogged 10 apple trees down, lucky for him, the Pillas were extremely precise in their farming and each tree was exactly five meters apart. He picked a stick off the ground and drew a relatively straight line before running even further to the 100 meter mark. He then returned to where Mustang stood and drew a line just before his feet. 

“Ready? GO!” 

Mustang finished in 6.32 seconds. Not bad, Ed gave him a smile. He shook out his automail leg and took his place at the starting line after Mustang looped back around.

“Ready? GO!” the words left Hawkeye’s lips and Ed charged forward, eyes zeroed in on a spot just beyond the line. 10.6 seconds.

“Damn it!’ Ed let out a frustrated noise, “I can do better, I  _ will _ do better, I swear it.”

His ports continued to ache but Ed doubted it was from nerves like before. He scowled and punched a tree. When he retrieved his fist pieces of bark came off with it and there was an indent in the trunk. Ed looked up to see Hawkeye frowning at him.

“10.6 isn’t a bad time-”

“It’s not bad, but it’s not good enough,” he turned away from Hawkeye to face the other two, “Alright, now we’re timing our relay, order goes: myself, Havoc, Mustang, then Hawkeye finishing last. It’s 400 meters from here all the way around these four rows of the orchard, roughly. Hand off uh… this water bottle as a baton.”

Ed took his place behind the line, and watched Hawkeye raise the stopwatch in her hand. 

“Ready? GO!” 

When they ended, Ed was the one holding the stopwatch, and studying the four times written on a piece of paper on the side. He finished the first leg in 47.82 seconds, Havoc in 51 seconds, Mustang in 49.2, and Hawkeye in the final leg in 46.92 seconds. Not bad, though they would probably have trouble with teams that had had students that were actually on the track team. 

Jean and Hawkeye were on point with javelin and discus throws. They were quick to adjust with the sticks and poles Ed gathered, since they didn’t have access to actual equipment. They tossed around a couple of apples and water bottles as well.

Hawkeye and Ed played against Havoc and Mustang in 2 on 2 small side football and soccer matches. They were quickly and utterly destroyed, though they put up as much of a fight they could’ve. He supposed this was a good thing, though he was salty about it all the same.

Their 2 on 2 volleyball ended very differently, as Mustang and Hawkeye were both good setters to Ed and Havoc’s spikes. Everyone definitely improved, and the fantasy from the beginning was taking shape. And then it started to rain.

“Fuck- shit, fuck- no! Why the hell is it raining?!” Ed swore as the first droplets hit his skin. The sky had been gradually getting darker as their practice went on but he had assumed it was due to the sun setting, not the possibility of rain, “You guys go ahead, sprint back to the house, I need to clean up first.”

The rain picked up it’s pace as he gathered their materials, and in the minute it took for him to do so, the sprinkle of rain became outright pouring when he sprinted away, back to the warmth and comfort of the Rockbell's house. 

Ed was soaked and shivering when Winry threw open the door to let him inside. Al rushed over and helped him strip down to his boxers, leaving Winry to bundle him up in a towel.

He fucking hated rain. It smelled weird, made the air humid, the ground muddy, and it just fucking sucked in general.

“S-so that’s why my p-ports hurt,” Ed commented, teeth chattering. He started climbing the stairs to get a replacement set of clothes. 

“And you didn’t mention this??” Winry yelled after him.  


He met Mustang in the hallway, who was dressed only in a pair of sweatpants with a towel wrapped around him. There was a trail of wet footsteps on the ground, leading into the patient room, where Havoc was still undressing. 

“I was not expecting to get drenched the night before the Festival,” he muttered, “Do you have any extra clothes?”

“I might, I’ll get you a shirt in a minute,” Al offered. He then shoved Ed into their shared room and dug around their closet. He ended up in a thick white hoodie and black sweatpants with Al trying to wrap another blanket around him. His sniffles cleared up after he sneezed as he toweled his hair dry. Ed wrapped it up into a messy bun and brushed back the few loose strands that fell out.

“I swear, if you get sick tomorrow, I will beat the fucking cold out of you and make you run on your hands,” Ed declared when he dropped by the now patient-free patient room. 

“Bold words from the guy who spent the most time in the rain,” Mustang retorted, ruffling his hair with a towel. 

“My sheer force of will will kick the ass of whatever sickness comes my way,” Ed replied. He turned to glare at Jean and Hawkeye, “Same goes for you two, by the way.”

“Aye-aye, chief.”

“Never say that again.”

“What?! Captain is for Roy, Chief is for you!” Jean exclaimed. Ed walked in and sat down on his bed, hugging the hoodie around him. Would this be the last time they would be together like this? No, Team Mustang will destroy the competition, and have another five months to train and then go to Central. 

“I hope it isn’t raining in East City,” Hawkeye hummed, looking out the window. The rain was still pouring hard, a steady pitter-patter on the roof. 

“Yeah, that would suck,” Mustang agreed. He walked over to Jean’s bed and plopped himself behind Ed, undoing his bun.

“Hey!’ Ed swatted his hands away. Mustang continued to gather his hair, ignoring Ed’s protests.

“Your hair is a mess.”

“Just let him do it, ‘sides, Roy hasn’t been able to touch your wondrous hair yet!” Jean told him. He rolled his eyes but allowed it. 

Mustang didn’t do much, just brush through it a couple time and then put it back in a bun while Jean and Hawkeye watched.

“Is my hair just  _ that _ captivating?” he grumbled, picking at Jean’s blankets. Jean nodded quickly and leaned forward from Hawkeye’s bed.

“Yes! It is amazing!”

“Uh… thanks?”

“Your hair  _ is _ very beautiful, Elric,” Mustang tacked on.

“Yeah, whatever. You done?” Ed stood up and stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets, walking towards the door. Jean followed suit and passed by Ed to head to the kitchen. Ed stood in the doorway and an itch grew in his nose. He sneezed, snot filling his nose again.

“Aw, come on! I literally just got rid of you,” he grumbled to himself. When he reached the kitchen, Ed wiped his nose and washed his hands before he pulled out a few vegetables from the fridge to prepare a salad. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time skip because otherwise this story would be like 100 chapters long- and the way I write this? So slow... Well the long anticipated Sports Festival is coming up and don't get your hopes up, it's not written well but with editing, hopefully Ed gets through all right. Liked it? Hated it? Feedback is appreciated, thanks :)


	17. Let's Play (Pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed attends the Sports Festival. Something's off.

Ed woke up early, far too early. He had ordered everyone to get to bed last night early, around eight or so, so that they would be well-rested for the day’s festivities. For Ed, he had lain in bed for two and a half hours reviewing tips, tricks, how to cover, whatever he needed to work on. Then he had woken up before five, feeling sluggish and cold. 

It was clear that he wouldn’t be going back to sleep after tossing and turning for a few minutes. He glanced over at Al, who was still sleeping peacefully. Huh. Ed was never the first one up. He tugged on the white hoodie he was wearing the night before after attaching both prosthetics. Ed put on some pants and wrapped a thin blanket around his shoulders. Yup, fall was definitely coming in Resembool. 

Ed stumbled into his bathroom and splashed some water on his face. That didn’t do anything to get rid of the lethargic feeling. He brushed his teeth, rinsed out his mouth once more for good measure, and nearly fell down the stairs.

He cursed quietly before flicking on the lights and opening all the cabinets to look for coffee grounds. Ed sat at the table and stared at the ticking clock in the corner of the room while the water boiled on the stove. Tick. Tock. Done, the water was bubbling now. He poured in the coffee grounds, turned off the heat, and stirred. And stirred.

“Ed? Why’re you up so early?” Winry mumbled as she came down the stairs. Ed filtered the coffee into the coffee pot and offered it to her. She took it with a small noise of appreciation and poured a cup, stirring in milk and sugar.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he murmured, taking another sip of coffee. She took Ed’s hand in hers and started rubbing circles around his knuckle. They sat in silence, both staring at the ticking clock in the corner. 

Tick. Tock. 

She got up and pulled some eggs out of the fridge. Ed washed his mug, now feeling slightly more awake, and pulled out some sausages and another pan. 

Al was next to come down, followed by Hawkeye and Mustang. 

“Right, we’re starting warmup now,” Ed announced once everyone was awake and had breakfast, “We’ll be running a light jog to the station, then do stretches and review plays on the train, got it?”

“You’ll still be coming around for dinner, right?” Granny came downstairs fully dressed, ready for a day in the workshop, “Win or lose, you’re coming for dinner.”

Ed’s automail felt too heavy today. That wasn’t good. His ports also ached. He hoped it wouldn’t rain, if it did, then the whole event would be cancelled and rescheduled. All the build up would be for nothing.

The Sports Festival was basically a holiday, no classes scheduled for the day and going to school was optional. Of course, the students participating were going to have to be there, but whether you wanted to watch or not was up to you. The morning was dedicated to the track events, a break for lunch, and then the afternoon was for the games. 

Each relay team would be given a color to wear to differentiate them, and Team Mustang opted to wear them for their individual events as well. They had gotten red, to Ed’s delight.

The first event would be Mustang’s 50 meter, along with Hawkeye’s javelin. He stuck with Mustang, since his 100 meter would be following right afterwards. Havoc split off from them to watch Hawkeye. Ed entrusted Al with his bag and watched

6.18, even better than yesterday. Ed cheered and gave him a thumbs up before turning back to watch the other racers finishing up. He was fairly sure Mustang came first, but the girl that was a hair’s length away came in at 6.2, it nearly gave Ed a heart attack.

“100 meter dash, students, please line up at the starting line,” they announced. He stepped up and was in between a tall fourth year with blond hair, and a brunette girl that was only slightly taller than him. 

Ed knelt down and touched the ground. Focus on getting a good start. It was only 100 meters, nothing compared to the relay. Good start and you’re guaranteed to get a good time. The whistle blew and Ed pushed off a bit too quickly, fuck. It sent him off balance but he quickly righted himself and sprinted towards the end.

10 seconds flat. Fuck. He stomped away after they released the students for the event and Mustang held out an arm to stop him.

“Hey, hey! 10 seconds is better than yesterday, and you came first either way!”

“Not good enough for Central,” Ed snapped before dragging him away, “Come on, Jean’s up.”

Jean won the discus throw. By a long shot (haha). And from what he told Ed, Riza did too. Ed gave him a slow clap and then had to leave immediately for the pole vault event, instructing them to get ready for the relay, which would be taking place right after the pole vault and wrap up the morning’s track events. 

It was the emptiest event that had taken place so far, as the team had very few people, 10 at most, and the event itself was lacking in an audience. 

Ed weighed the long pole stick thing in his hand. He could feel the guys on the pole vault team judging him. Fuck off, he could do this! Probably. Maybe. 163 centimeters versus the 4 meter bar. 

He ran forward, pole held high, stabbed it into the ground, and pulled himself up. The pole bent and snapped up as he left go, basically flying. He was fairly sure he skimmed the pole as he landed onto the mat on the other side, but the ref didn’t call it and he was the only one who cleared the four meter bar. The guys were re-evaluating him now, a look close to awe on their faces.

The teachers were clearing the track of the bars and the cushion when Ed returned to Team Mustang, who congratulated him. 

“I feel a bit dizzy, sorry,” Ed muttered as he jumped up and down and shook out his fingers. 

“It’s probably just from the last event, it’ll go away, just focus on the relay,” Mustang told him, turning to accept the baton the referee handed him. “We have five minutes until the event starts, so let’s get used to the baton.”

They tossed around the stick. They weren’t that creative, okay. Ed weighed the baton in his metal hand and turned it over a couple times. It was a bit beat up, probably from kids dropping it all the time, but it was balanced.

Jean wish him luck one last time before Ed took his place. The whistle blew and he got a good start, leading the race by a couple meters. He could practically feel the guy behind him gaining momentum, and the dizzy feeling intensified as he finished the lap around the track and started to overlap Jean, who had started to run. Ed reached out his hand, baton ready to pass on, and- he fucking fumbled it.

Ed fucked up. He screwed up the pass and Jean nearly dropped it. He fell in second. Then dropped to third. Jean was put in second because he was the ‘slowest’ of all of them. Not that he was actually slow. He was just slightly behind the rest of them. But that ‘slightly behind’ kind of screwed them over compared to the other teams. There were 12 teams, one of the most popular events, with 48 people on the field and the bleachers filled, screaming at all of them. 

He dropped his head into his hands and let out a strangled noise..

“God- the fuck is wrong with me today? Fucking dizziness, I- I need coffee,” Ed half-yelled. He could see the other teams around them slightly laughing at him. He was the only one who messed it up, he was sure of it. Mustang gave him a last look,  _ pull yourself together _ , before starting up his run to intercept the baton from Jean.

“Hey, hey, Ed! It was fine, it turned out fine,” Jean reassured him, pulling Ed up to his feet. He scrunched up his face.

“No, no, it wasn’t, we’ve dropped down to fourth and I haven’t pulled my own weight, god, the first leg runner’s  _ job _ is to pull ahead! Fuck,” he swore and began pacing back and fourth. Hawkeye gave him the same look.  _ Pull. Yourself. Together _ . Before taking the baton from Mustang. Ed focused on the people around them. Out of the 12 teams, 6 were on the track, splitting the event into two. 

Hawkeye was like a bullet, ripping through the track with a speed Ed had never seen before. In 30 seconds she had surpassed two of the three teams that were ahead of them.

“KEEP GOING! DON’T STOP UNTIL YOU GET TO THE BLEACHERS,” Ed screamed with his hands cupped around his mouth. She leapt over the finish line and sprinted for a couple meters before stumbling to a stop, sweat shining on her forehead. Holy shit. They came first.

“Holy shit!” Jean voiced his thoughts, “Riza that was fucking awesome! You just blew away everyone!”

“I second that!” Ed yelled, “That was fucking amazing, Hawkeye.”

She did her job, picked up the pieces and shoved them back together. Ed’s screaming and yelling left him in a coughing fit, mucus clogging up his throat. He jogged over to the trash can behind the table filled with water bottles, and spit into it. He wiped his mouth and turned back to Hawkeye, who was panting and smiling.

“We have to get off the track, the second event is starting,” Mustang pushed them off the track to stand by the bleachers with the other teams and handed them each their water bottles they had left on the side. 

“Roy!” a short blonde girl had her hair tied up in pigtails and streaks of red across their streaks approached them from the bleachers, “You were amazing!”

Mustang chuckled and Ed cringed at the sight of the two of them, “Our victory was all Riza’s doing, I assure you.”

The girl eyed Hawkeye, who was standing next to Ed, and rolled her eyes infinitesimally. This bitch??

“Oh, Roy, you’re so humble! It’s okay, you can say that you did a great job!”

Ed tuned them out to evaluate the next six teams that were getting ready for the relay. He should’ve done more, like watch them practice, or even learn who was on the ECHS team. Ed realized that the crowd he had ignored while he was running was loud.  _ Very _ loud. Constant screaming and whistling, cheering and booing at each of the teams. It seemed like almost all of the school and more were situated on the bleachers. 

The race took a bit more time, but a team dressed in yellow beat Team Mustang’s time by three seconds. Fuck. Fortunately, since the relay was the biggest event, the top two teams both got to go to Central, which might change depending on which school it was. The only other event this applied to was small sided football, which was another generally really popular event.

“That was a wonderful race! That wraps up the track events for East City High’s Sports Festival have been completed, times and scores will be posted on the bulletin board in the front of the school should anyone want to check them out. Now, we shall break for an hour lunch and reconvene in the afternoon for the games,” the football coach called out, being one of the main coordinators for the event. 

The cafeteria was crowded, filled with double the usual amount of students, and people were spilling onto the bleachers and field outside. Ed retrieved his bag from Al and picked at the sandwich Granny had packed while sitting against the side of the bleachers.

The volleyball team was sitting with them, also wearing red jerseys, since none of them had competed in the relay it was fine for the game as well. The soccer team was dressed in a dark blue, Mustang and Havoc would have to change. The football team was in an ugly orange color that made Ed feel nauseous just by looking at it.

“So, the schedule is like this, the first games will be doubles tennis on the tennis court, and soccer on the football field, I think they’ll be setting up nets for that right now,” Mustang read off the schedule, “Singles tennis is right after soccer so I’ll have to go straight to the match. Those will be the smaller matches, without as much of an audience or participants so they blocked those two together. At most, we’ll be playing two matches for each of those, maybe three in soccer. Football will take some time, there are about 12 teams that are playing and will probably take around an hour and a half. Basketball is right before volleyball in gym 1 with 6 teams. Volleyball, with 8 teams. The ceremony at the end might run a bit over to after school.”

Ed had lost his appetite, and offered the other half of his sandwich to Breda, who took it after Ed reassured him that he didn’t need it.

“You sure, Elric? There won’t be another chance to refuel until after the Festival’s over,” Mustang asked. Ed shrugged and glanced at the watch on his wrist.

“It’s 11:16,” Mustang offered, “We have about half an hour left.”

Ed nodded and glanced up, the sun was high in the sky, much warmer than this morning, yet Ed swore that he could feel a breeze. He pulled on his red jacket and leaned back against the side of the bleachers, dozing off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ED'S NOT DOIN' SO WELL. I don't like most of this but that's fine. No it isn't. We're like halfway there? I might rewrite this sometime in the future when I actually learn to play sports but... liked it? Hated it? Feedback, please! Thanks :)


	18. Sports Festival (Pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed's health slowly gets worse during the day.

Ed was woken up just 15 minutes later.

“Come on, we have to warm up,” Hawkeye said, nudging him again. He yawned and rubbed his arms, attempting to warm himself up. It was cold, fuck. Cold was never good for his automail. He kept the jacket on as they stretched and hit the ball a few times back and forth.

“There are four teams in the event,” Hawkeye informed him, “We only have to play two games and we’re set.”

Ed nodded quickly and let out a quiet sneeze. 

“Are… are you alright?” Hawkeye asked hesitantly. Ed sniffed and raised his racket.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It was just a sneeze, throw a ball at me.”

The first match made it clear that Ed was abhorrent. Hawkeye carried the match, no doubt about it. He was slow to every ball, messed up his serves, and nearly tripped Hawkeye when she ran forward. Fuck.

“Shit, that was a fucking disaster, sorry. God, I should’ve just sat this out and you’d’ve done better, fuck, sorry.”

“It’s fine, we won, and we needed two people to participate in the first place.”

He glanced at the other court, they were still going on, back and forth, back and forth. He grimaced and glanced at the side of the court, where Winry and Al stood.

“Ed, are you… okay?” Winry asked when he approached them.

“I feel fucking awful,” Ed admitted, “I was dizzy this morning, and now I’m really fucking cold.”

Winry reached out to grab his wrist and put her palm against his forehead, “Ed, you’re burning up.”

“What? No I’m not!” His head snapped up and jerked out of her hold, “I’m just a bit tired, I couldn’t sleep last night. I took a nap at lunch, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not, if you keep pushing yourself you could get really sick,” Winry argued. Al reached out for him and he turned away and walked back to Hawkeye.

“I’m fine,” he said loudly, before facing Hawkeye, “Have you watched the other team play?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “it’s nearly over, the main thing we have to watch out for is the short guy in green’s serve, it kind of swerves, so you have to keep on your feet. I think we just keep on in front, one in back, last game didn’t go too well with us splitting the court.”

Ed winced, “Uh, yeah, whatever you say, it would be better.”

The ref’s whistle blew and the guys in green cheered at their victory. Now, a five minute break to prepare for the next match, against Ed and Hawkeye. Ed bounced the ball on the ground a couple times and watched them talk. The smaller one would probably be a lot of force, but not that much thought, just focusing on slamming the ball and keeping it in the court. 

The four took their places on the court, Ed behind the line. The ref blew his whistle and he threw up the ball. Overhand. The racket collided with the ball, the sound was solid, and it flew over the net.

“Out!” The short one called, they both turned to watch the ball and Ed’s heart dropped.

“In!” The ref announced, and gave them a point. Ed’s shoulders slumped in relief, it had touched the line.

“Pay attention, that was just luck,” Hawkeye snapped. Ed nodded and prepared for another serve. Aim. Throw. Hit. The ball went straight to the tall guy. Fuuuck.

Ed fully forgave Hawkeye for whatever she had ever done to him, and to whoever else she had wronged. She was an angel in disguise, an angel who didn’t understand social cues, but a sports angel nonetheless. They won, surprisingly, amazing, wonderifically, and Ed’s I’m-about-to-become-a-popsicle feeling had nearly been wiped over by the joy and disbelief that came with the last strike Hawkeye had landed. Nearly. He ended up with another coughing fit from screaming at Hawkeye and the green team.

Hawkeye pounded him on the back as he ran to go find another trash can to spit in. 

“Are you alright?”

“Stop asking me that!” he wiped his mouth and stood up, the dizzy-tired feeling coming back, “Even if I didn’t feel well, there’s only volleyball left.”

The ref ordered them off the court and they sat with Al and Winry on the side, both of which glared at Ed, who made sure to sit Hawkeye between them as a barrier. 

Mustang came running to the court, along with a small fanclub.

“Good soccer match?” Hawkeye asked, to which Mustang straightened and grinned.

“Awesome match, played 7 on 7, and this one guy had this super crazy shot from the sideline, almost parallel to the goal and-”

“Mustang, save the chit-chat for later, you have to get on the court,” Ed interrupted. 

Watching Mustang’s match was nerve-wracking, yet also relaxing. On one hand, the opponent’s hits looked like they were about to peg Mustang in the head, but on the other, he was really fucking tired and cold. There were only 2 matches, like Ed and Hawkeye.

“FOLLOW THROUGH, MUSTANG,” Ed found himself screaming like he knew how tennis worked. He could practically see Mustang’s eyes rolling as he reset. 

The first match was won by Mustang, but then the second resulted in a deuce that was take and take-back. Winry was nearly jumping out of her seat in anticipation. 

“WHOOO! HELL YEAH!” she screamed when Mustang gained the advantage point. When he landed the final point, she, along with his small fan club, started screaming and cheering.

“You never cheered for me!” Ed whined, tugging her back down. She brushed his hand back impatiently.

“That’s because you were shit, Mustang’s good!” she exclaimed, waving him over. Ed gave him a smile and stood up, immediately wanting to curl back up into a ball. He brushed away the feeling and handed Mustang a water bottle. His nose also started to act up again as he led the way back to the football field. He sniffled when he settled on the bleachers next to Feury, which Winry didn’t comment on but she did hand him a tissue.

“Are you alright?” Feury asked at the sight of him. He looked very alarmed. Ed scrunched up his nose and wiped it with a tissue again. He couldn’t look that bad, could he? 

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?!”

“ _ Maybe _ , because everyone can tell that you’re-” Ed slapped a hand over Al’s mouth before he could finish his sentence.

“Shut up, Al, I am  _ not _ .”

Ed dozed off amidst the eardrum bursting noise, and when he woke up, he was curled up in Al’s lap with his cloak draped over him like a blanket. He felt slightly better, he supposed. The fatigue and dizziness was all but gone, but his nose wouldn’t stop running and all his screaming was starting to take its toll.

On the field, Mustang had just intercepted a ball and was sprinting. He sat up and cracked his neck, a noise that Feury cringed at.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “Winry? What’s the score?”

“I haven’t clue how football works,” Winry said cheerfully, finally tearing her gaze away from the game, “They have like two minutes left, though.”

Ed watched the game intently, Mustang was quarterback of East City’s team, he knew that much. From what he could tell, in this game Jean was the quarterback and Mustang was a wide receiver. Maybe? He wasn’t sure.

He watched Mustang run into the end zone, free of anyone in his way and Jean get ready for a throw. The fuck was he doing? Throw to Mustang, not that other guy! The guy he was aiming at dodged a blocker and wave a hand for a pass. He launched the ball, high into the air. Oh. The way he was facing turned in an instant and by the time the other team adjusted, it was too late, the ball was safe in Mustang’s hands, and the game was over.

The audience blew up, a sea of roaring students and teachers alike, all hollering at the hideous orange team. Ed joined in and he could see Mustang turn toward the bleachers. He grinned and clapped, trying to keep Winry from blowing his ear off, and Ed could swear Mustang caught his eye and smiled. He flashed a double thumbs up as Mustang turned away.

Everyone started to stand up and push around in their haste to get to the gym, where basketball followed by volleyball would take place. Al and Winry were torn away from Ed and he turned to see Feury struggling to keep up with him. Ed latched onto his arm and pulled the two of them off the bleachers and out of the foot traffic.

“Do you want to watch the game?” Feury asked, Ed considered his options for a moment before shaking his head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pt. 3? Of spewing bs hoping it sounds like sports. Ed gets even sicker and as a result his horrible tennis gets worse. Liked it? Hated it? Let me know. Thanks :)


	19. The Last Stretch (Pt. 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed talks to Maes Hughes and plays volleyball.

Ed shook his head and found that Feury shared the sentiment. He offered for them to skip.  


“Are you sure? I mean the basketball game will only take like an hour,” Ed frowned. Feury shrugged and lead him off school premises to a bakery.

“Hey, I’ve been here before!” Ed noted, taking in the interior. There was the same girl as last time behind the counter, wait didn’t she have school? A boy was leaning across it, talking to her with a bright smile on his face.

“It’s one of my favorite places in the city, it’s really underrated, and they have great pies!” Feury followed him and shut the door. It was warm inside the bakery, the warmest Ed has been all day. The sweet smell combined with the general happy aura brought a smile to Ed’s face.

“Oh, hello! How can I help you?” the girl, Grape? Grace? Finally noticed them come in, “Oh, hi, Kain!” 

“Hey! Can we get two sticky buns?” Feury requested, the girl nodded and tugged on some gloves. The boy turned around, Maes Hughes.

“Feury!” he nodded, “And Elric, right?”

“Yeah, Hughes? Aren’t you friends with Mustang? Figured you would be at school to cheer him on, or something.”

“I just came from the football game, actually, and aren’t you on ‘Team Spirit’? The game’s in like half an hour.”

“So did we, we didn’t want to watch the basketball game. Were you in any events?” Feury took a bite out of the bun Gabby? Handed him. Ed did the same and had to close his eyes for a second.

“Yeah, I was in a couple of the track events. I ran the 50 meter with Roy, the 100 meter, and the relay, Elric was in it, weren’t you?”

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, ignoring Hughes’s question, “this is really fucking good.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” when Ed opened his eyes again, the girl was smiling.

“Gracia’s baking is a gift from heaven,” Hughes declared, leaning back against the counter. Oh, her name was Gracia. Gracia blushed and pushed him off the counter, wiping it with a cloth.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school? I didn’t think Jenkins had the day off,” Ed asked Gracia, who laughed.

“Oh, we don’t. Every year most of the school ditches class to watch East City High’s Sports Festival. It’s an unofficial school holiday, aren’t you supposed to be there?” 

“Uh yeah, Feury, let’s go, we have to start to warm up, are you guys coming? Volleyball’s the last game,” Ed dug out a few cenz out of his bag and handed it to Gracia, who dropped it into the register.

“Dad! I’m going with Maes to the Festival!” she called to someone in the back, taking off her apron and disappearing for a moment. 

Ed stepped outside and immediately shivered, wanting to jump back into the bakery and stay for hours. His nose immediately began running, and he grimaced before wiping it on his sleeve. He inhaled sharply, only to find his nose plugged.

“Are you sick?” Hughes sidled up to him, fuck- he was really fucking tall. Like, taller than Mustang, Havoc tall. Ed made a face and stepped to the side, putting some distance between the two of them.

“No, I’m not. It’s just a bit cold out.”

“Roy’s going to be pissed if he finds out you were playing while sick, he’s a total mother hen when it comes to this kind of stuff.”

“Mustang can go stuff it, and so can you. I’m not sick,” Ed insisted, kicking a rock on the pavement. It bounced away and onto the street, he scowled at the pebble.

“Mmm, you’re just like Roy. Insists he’s not sick and then passes out for two days,” Hughes hummed. Ed rolled his eyes and looked up, they were nearing the school.

“Feury, light jog, go!” Ed barked, Feury snapped to attention from his conversation with Gracia and started running, “See ya.”

When they reached the second gym, the first still a mess from basketball, the rest of the team save Mustang was already stretching. Ed and Feury both joined in, forming a small circle.

“Where’s Mustang?” Ed asked Hawkeye, who was on his left.

“He’s ah, distracted,” Hawkeye coughed. Ed made a face and she was quick to act, “Yeah, I’ll go find him.”

She disappeared among the crowd that was shuffling into the gym, significantly smaller than the football game. Ed grabbed a ball from the cart and tossed it to Breda, going back and forth to work on Breda’s receives. Feury began doing the same with Havoc. 

Hawkeye returned after a short while, dragging Mustang by the arm behind her. His hair was messy, more so than usual, and his lips were red and swollen.

“Mustang, the fuck,” Ed snapped at the sight of him. He gave a sheepish smile and started doing stretches without Ed telling him to do so. Ed’s eye twitched. This asshole. ‘You’re just like Roy’, his ass.

“Sorry, lost track of time,” he replied, a small smirk on his face. A noise of disgust and annoyance came out of Ed’s throat and he turned back to Breda. A few minutes later, the football coach emerged and called everyone’s attention.

“All right, Gym 1 will be set up for matches in five minutes, teams, please take this time to warm up. Each set will be first to 10 points. Teams ‘Spirit’ and Team ‘Green’ will be staying here, and Team ‘Fold’ and Team ‘Porcupine’ will be in Gym 1.”

Team Mustang huddled around, Ed making sure not to end up next to Mustang.

“Alright, ‘Green’ might be our hardest matchup, even though it’s the first. The volleyball team’s libero and captain are both on the team. Though, the libero is just a regular player for this. The best way to score is to outsmart him, he’s the one with the hair sticking up in the back, by the way. We want to keep Elric as our secret weapon, and show off Jean. Got it? Elric?”

“Right so, it’s up to you guys, but I would prefer Hawkeye as our setter, though Mustang would work too. Jean up front with Breda, Feury and I in the back, would be our strongest rotation, we want to start off with a head start, okay?”

Hawkeye volunteered and was put up front with Breda and Jean. Mustang would be serving first with Feury in the middle and Ed on the left. 

They went over some last minute plans before the referee called for the captains. Mustang moved forward to take the coin toss. They were heads, the green team were tails.

Ed watched the ref throw up the coin intently. He caught it and flipped it over on the back of his hand. Heads. Mustang chose to serve first and jogged back to inform the rest of the team. 

“Give a nice serve, Mustang,” Ed glared at him. Did that sounded more like a threat rather than encouragement? He shook off the thought and took his place on the side of the court. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Mustang throw up the ball.

His palm struck it and it fell short. The ball clipped the net and fell in, the player barely missing the ball as he dove. Ed chanced a look over, did Mustang just fuck up?? No, the bastard had a smug grin on his face. He totally planned that. 

Jean and Breda whooped and clapped him on the back before returning to their positions.

“Hey, give another one!” Jean called, turning back around to face the net. Ed heard the thwap of Mustang’s hand against the ball and it soared into his vision, crossing the court. 

This time, the dude with long black hair turned and received the ball, bumping it back to the front, presumably to whoever their setter was. Ed ran forward as the ball flew up once more, and a girl with short black hair jumped up and slammed it down along the sideline, Breda was a second too late to jump. 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, “Sorry, I didn’t move quick enough.”

“Shake it off, Chief,” Jean called. The whistle was blown and a second later the ball came flying, Feury was quick on his feet, and in a second the ball was up and Hawkeye was moving to set it. Two blockers followed Havoc, who leapt up to hit her toss. Ed readied himself in case of a rebound, but Jean blew through the blockers, knocking the ball off the side of their arms and out of the court.

“Whoo!” he cheered, pumping his fist into the air, “That’s more like it!”

“Nice kill, Jean!” Ed and Mustang called at the same time. He pursed his lips and glared at Mustang. They regained possession, and Ed rotated up to the front, taking Havoc’s place. Hawkeye’s serve.

The sound was clean, and over the net it went. They received it and the setter moved to toss it up. He could feel Hawkeye coming up behind him, and jumped with Breda to block the black haired girl once again. He launched a beat late, barely there when Breda’s hand was knocked back.

“One touch!” the boy called, Ed landed and turned to see Feury running across the court and hit it towards Hawkeye.

“Here!” Mustang called, suddenly appearing at Ed’s side. Holy shit, he was fast. Ed moved back, covering his spot and watched the blockers keep up with Mustang’s movements. The ball went long, but then they fucked up. Even Ed knew they fucked up, and not just from the ‘oh-shit’ face on one of the opponent’s faces. The guy’s hands flew up for an overhand receive. Haha, dumbass was acting on pure impulse. If they had just let it flown out, it would’ve been their point.

“Chance ball!” Ed yelled, dropping down to receive the ball. Okay, that was perfect, Hawkeye didn’t have to move an inch, her hands already up to set. 

“Again!” Mustang took a step back for that small bit of momentum and launched himself upwards. Ed watched Hawkeye intently and noticed Jean also take a running start. A decoy. Wait, no! Her position changed at the last moment and the set went to Jean, who spiked it with zero blockers on him.

“Nice kill! Hawkeye, give another good serve!”

Receive. Set. Spike. Fuck. Panic. Ed mentally berated himself at his late reaction, the ball already bouncing out of the court by the time he shifted.

“Shake it off! We’re still leading by a point, we’ll take back possession! Just remember to tighten the blocks, try and limit their path for Feury!” Mustang, the encouraging optimistic asshole he is, said. He clapped his hands and dropped back.

“Hey,” Ed waved Hawkeye over, “Make it look like you’re spiking to Havoc, have him near center, but I’ll come around at the end, okay?”

She nodded and took a step to the side, motioning for Havoc to do the same. The other team rotated and now their captain was now behind the line, ball in hand. He threw it up and jumped. Well fuck, our fate is in your hands, Feury. He heard the ‘thwap’ of the ball against someone's arms, and in that moment, he started running, regardless of whether or not it was connected.

“Here!” he heard Havoc yell, and the ball went up. He jumped and met with the ball, slamming it in a cross court shot. He met Havoc’s shocked look and grinned.

“Nice kill! Nice set too, RIza, I totally thought that was going to me!” Havoc exclaimed. Ed chanced a look over the net to see the other team take a step back. Hell yeah. They were probably assuming things based on his height. He stuck his tongue out and turned before the ref could say anything about it. 

They regained the ball, now Breda was up to serve. Feury stepped up next to him and Ed whispered to him, “When blocking, we’re a bit below average, jump a bit earlier than Jean to get there at the same time.”

Breda’s serve fell a bit short, right into the guy with his hair sticking up in the back. The libero, if Ed remembered correctly. Receive. Set. He jumped with Feury, shortly followed by Havoc. The ball collided with his arms, but fell back on the other side of the net.

“Yes!” Ed pumped a fist into the air and was dragged into a huddle with the rest of the.

“Right, we’ve reached the halfway mark before they have, with a three point lead, too. Keep it up, but don’t let your guard down, alright?” Mustang said quietly, all of them listening intently. 

Serve. Receive. Set. Spike. Block. Counter attack. 

This time, the spike was aimed directly at Hawkeye, who had to receive it overhand if she wanted to keep it in play. This left Ed to set it, who barely touched it with his fingertips before Jean was there, angling his hand to do a feint. It worked, flying over the hands of the blockers and falling behind them.

“Hell yeah! I fucking hate that thing, but fuck yeah!” Ed gave Jean a high five before feeling an itch in his throat. He coughed and Jean pounded him on the back. Ed swallowed the saliva and turned back around.

“Hey, you good?” Mustang asked, Ed waved him off and called for Breda to give another serve. Team ‘Green’ quickly received it and three spikers jumped up. Fuck. Ed stuck to the one in the middle, leaving the other two to span out. He jumped as the ball made contact with the setter’s hands.

The ball went left, and passed Feury’s block completely, going straight down the line.

“Ugh! Sorry,” Feury apologised, and Mustang told him to shake it off.

They served to Hawkeye, eliminating her as the setter. Mustang covered her place and stepped up to set it. Feury and Havoc both jumped up, and Ed waited a beat for the blocker in front of him to jump before doing so himself. Haha, the ‘oh-shit’ look was back. He looked for Mustang’s set, and it wasn’t going to him. 

Feury’s spike was weak, but with only one blocker and the others trying to cover Ed and Jean, who had been flashy with their moves, it had gotten past and landed on their side of the court. 7-3. Nice. Which is what Ed would’ve said, if the other team hadn’t then scored three points back to back when a dizzy wave hit Ed.

“Elric, pull yourself together! Put up the block!” Mustang yelled at him. He nodded and turned back. The other team was looking a t cockier, now that they had nearly caught up with them. Ed whacked himself in the head, which did absolutely nothing, but distracted from the dizzy feeling, instead focusing on the pain. 

Their serve was received by Mustang, and Hawkeye ran up toward the net to set it. Spike. Spiking was easy, hit the ball down. He had automail. 

“Ball!” he called, jumping up before the blockers had a chance to find him. The ball fit nicely, and the automail was strong. They won a point. Two more points. One more set. Two more games. “YES!” 

They were pulled back together, “Jean’s up to serve next, blow them away with the jump serve, I will be setter now, Riza, focus on receiving if they get Jean’s ball, okay?”

Jean’s serve was strong, and the libero moved back to receive it, but the ball went long.

“Chance ball!” Mustang called, and they took it easy, having Breda receive it. Ed ran across the court past Mustang, and leapt up. Feury did the same on the other side, where Ed just was. Mustang tossed up the ball, and Ed spiked it down the line. He accepted Mustang’s high five and leapt up.

“One more point!’ Team Spirit yelled the same time the other team called, “It’s not over yet!”

_ Our serve, _ Ed thought,  _ don’t let us down _ . Jean threw up the ball. He jumped and his hand struck the ball. Right at the captain. He received it and it went awry. The setter ran off the court and a long set was made, right to the center spiker. Ed jumped up and the ball knocked his left hand back.

“One touch!” he turned and landed. Hawkeye shuffled back a couple steps and the ball went toward Mustang. Feury, Ed, and Jean all ran up to the net, maybe Mustang would toss backwards? To Jean? That would be the safest, Ed leapt up and- the ball was on the other side of the net. He stared at the ball, on the ground and rolling away. He turned and stared at Mustang, whose hands were still raised.

“Did- did you just fucking dump it??” Ed very nearly screamed at him. Mustang sported a smug smirk as he turned to Ed, “How come you never did that in practice?! You fucking asshole!”

A warning look from the referee shut Ed up but he continued to glare at Mustang with a bewildered expression on his face. The rest of the team congratulated Mustang and went off to get water. The second set would be starting soon. 

* * *

The second set resulted in a Team ‘Spirit’ win, ending with Jean plowing through three blockers in a cross-court shot. 

“Uh, I’ve just been informed that one player from Team ‘Fold’ has collapsed, and another from Team ‘Puma’ has gotten food poisoning, both teams have withdrawn from the tournament,” the teacher announced to Gym 2. The audience made a collective ‘aww’ sound, but Ed smiled slightly. Now that he had stopped running and jumping around, he was exhausted and cold, coughing from all his screaming.

“Congratulations to teams ‘Porcupine’, ‘Spirit’, and ‘Raven’, who have passed their first games. In Gym 1, Team ‘Navy’ and Team ‘Claw’ will play their first match.”

Their match had taken half an hour, and now, they had a half an hour to rest up and reboot. When Ed found Winry and Al, Al handed Ed his jacket and book bag without a word, and he wrapped it around himself gratefully. He walked out of the gym to find Team Spirit sitting outside a bathroom on the ground outside Gym 1. He took a seat next to Feury and Jean. Ed sipped on his water, the cool liquid soothing his throat.

“Yo, Roy!” a familiar voice called from the end of the hall. Hughes was walking toward them with Gracia at his side.

“Hey, Gracia,” Hawkeye greeted, and she gestured for the other girl to sit next to her. 

“I saw your game, it was great!” 

“Thanks,” Mustang replied, “You should join our team next year.”

“Tough luck without me on the team,” Ed butted in, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall. He could feel eyes staring at him and he opened one eye to see Jean and Mustang both staring at him.

“You’re not going to do it… next year?” Jean asked. He sounded crestfallen, heartbroken. How the fuck did he get attached so quickly?

“No, the only reason I did it was because I owed Mustang a favor. Sorry,” Ed closed his eyes and focused on the wall behind him. His body was freezing but his head was flaming. His foot, in particular. 

“Well, that can’t do!” Hughes exclaimed, “Won’t you miss this, the bond you’ve had with your teammates, the laughs you’ve shared?”

Ed shrugged and sneezed, which triggered a coughing fit.

“Elric… are you sick?”

“ _ No, _ I’m not. I am, and have been fine,” Ed replied shortly before standing up, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.”

He strode past Mustang on the ground and walked into the bathroom and did his business. When he was washing his hands he glanced up and stared at himself in the mirror. He could see why everyone kept asking about him. Ed looked horrible. His skin was somehow very pale yet flushed at the same time, he had bags under his eyes, which were also slightly bloodshot. He pressed his fingers to his cheeks and found them pleasantly cool. 

Ed shook his head and splashed some water on his face. When he exited the bathroom Breda and Jean had disappeared.

“They went to go get a snack,” Hughes offered, Ed nodded in response and took his place on the ground next to Feury. He sifted through his bag before pulling out a beat up pack of cards. They started to play poker.

“Elric, you  _ have _ to be cheating,” Feury exclaimed disbelievingly. Ed was sporting a smirk on his face as he won another hand. He gathered all the cards and stuffed them back in the box.

“Come on, game’s finishing up. You can tell because everyone’s getting louder,” Ed turned but found his arm behind pulled to the side by Mustang, who had an eyebrow raised, “What?”

“You know what,” Mustang reached out and tugged on his sleeve. Cards slipped out. Ahaha, what a coincidence! Mustang let out a mock gasp, “You scoundrel!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ed muttered, embarrassed at being caught, he picked up the fallen cards quickly and stuffed them away. 

“That was a great match, Navy and Claw! Now, Teams ‘Navy’ and ‘Spirit will have their match in Gym 1, and Teams ‘Porcupine’ and ‘Raven’ in Gym 2. We will have a ten minute break until they start.”

“This is it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally forgot that Hughes existed. Oops. Well anyways, the next chapter will be the last of the festival and we go back to Mustang flirting with Ed all the time. This chapter is kinda long and boring so... let me know if you like it or hated it! Thanks :)


	20. Sick of Sports

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed admits he's sick, a bit too late.

Looking back on it, East City’s volleyball team must’ve really  _ sucked _ , because this ragtag team containing zero seniors, absolutely crushed everyone! (Not really, Ed just liked to boast)

“WE FUCKING WON!” Ed screamed. The noise was lost among the din of the crowd. He jumped up and hugged Jean, who started ruffling his hair. The whole team was jumping around, and the people watching started spilling out into the court. Winry and Al both collided against Ed and hugged him tightly. He laughed loudly and squeezed his eyes shut when they started watering as he coughed.   


The adrenaline disappeared and suddenly he was feeling claustrophobic. There were so many people. The noise was so  _ loud _ , the smell of sweat was overwhelming, and it was so warm in the gymnasium. He felt nauseous. Ed had to get out. Away. He shoved Winry off him and nearly tripped over someone else. Just get to the door. The hallways are open, don’t throw up. Simple, right? 

He pushed his way through a couple more people and squeezed through small gaps. The hallway was cool, cold, almost. The nauseous feeling persisted and he rushed to the water fountain, gulping down water. It dribbled down his chin, but he ignored it in favor of forcing as much water down to throw off the notion of vomiting on the ground. 

“Brother!” Al appeared at his side and dragged him away from the water fountain. Ed glanced down to see a small puddle of water on the ground. Whoops.

“Al- Al, hi,” Ed stuttered. He grabbed his shirt from under his jersey and wiped his mouth. More people seemed to flow from the cracks of the school, all shoving to get into the packed gymnasium. Oh. Ceremony’s starting.

“Hi, do you want to just go home?”

“No- no, I… Al, I might be sick,” Ed admitted, staring at the open door.

“No shit,” Al deadpanned, glaring at him. Ed cowered for a moment before straightening, to find that his brother was still standing higher than him.

“Did- did you get taller??” Ed half-yelled, “The fuck?! I’m supposed to be the taller one!” 

Al rolled his eyes at Ed’s theatrics, “Drink your milk, we can just go home now.”

“No, I- the ceremony. We won, we’ve got to boast about it before we go home,” Ed walked back with Al at his side. The Elrics. 

When he entered the gymnasium he spotted the small podium the teachers had set up and Team Mustang standing nearby looking for him. He slipped between Jean and Hawkeye.

“Hey,” he whispered. They jumped and glanced down.

“Oh… hey, we were looking for you.”

“Good afternoon, East City High! We’ve had an exciting day, our annual Sports Festival. Congratulations, and thank you, to everyone who participated in the events. Now, to announce who will be going to Central to compete against the other schools! We have to defend our title, as the East City Eagles!” the secretary paused for a moment to let everyone cheer at the name.

“Now, we’ve had 12 events and games take place. For the 50 meter dash, Roy Mustang. 100 meter dash, Edward Elric. 4 person relay, Rebecca Catalina, Maes Hughes, Solaris Lewis, and Charlie Meyer. The second team, Edward Elric, Jean Havoc, Riza Hawkeye, and Roy Mustang. Javelin throw, Riza Hawkeye. Discus throw, Jean Havoc. Pole vault, Edward Elric.”

Ed kind of tuned out at that point, he could hear people’s confusion at the same names being repeated over and over. Haha, assholes. The nauseous feeling that came with being in the disgusting gym for so long came back. Ed wanted to throw up.

“Now, will the victors of the events step up on the stage?”

Ed shuffled forward with about 20 other people. A lot less than last year, that was for sure.

“That kid looks like he’s about to hurl…”

His head was pounding and he started fiddling with his jersey hem.

“Oh my gosh!! Roy!! Look over here!”

His stomach churned, probably from his little bit of lunch and that sticky bun. His body was telling him that he needed more food but his head was telling him that he wasn’t hungry.

“ _ Of course _ , Solaris is up there.”

The bright lights of the gymnasium made Ed dizzy.

“Yo, Havoc, it’s me!” 

His face was hot, and that with his heart beating  _ way  _ too loudly was a bad combination.

“Now, a round of applause, for our representatives that are going to Central in March!”

Everyone cheered and whistled as they filed off the stage. Ed pushed Mustang to the side. God, the  _ noise _ . An ear piercing whistle found it’s way to Ed’s ears and he nearly threw a guy, was that Jean? Off to the side. 

He barely was out of the gym and in the bathroom, thank god for that placement, heaving into the toilet. His chest was heaving as he coughed into the bowl. Tears were making their way to his eyes. What a sight that must have been. There wasn’t much in his stomach, but whatever was in there came out, and plopped into the toilet with a sickening splash.

Somebody was behind him, brushing back his bangs.

“So you  _ were _ sick,” Hughes muttered, “Your friend’s outside, worried out of her mind. I volunteered.”

“I-” Ed tried to say something but was caught by another coughing fit, “I’m s-sorry.”

After making sure nothing was going to keep coming out, he stumbled out of the stall and rinsed out his mouth in the sink. Behind him, Hughes was flushing the toilet.

“The- the train, we’re going to miss it,” he rasped before throwing open the door, nearly knocking Winry on the head. Al was nowhere in sight. He craned his neck to look over the crowd, to no avail, and couldn’t spot the golden head.

“Al went ahead, he can’t afford to get sick,” Winry explained, tugging Ed along. He stripped off the disgusting jersey and pulled on his cloak. Winry’s arms were warm on his arms, that was nice. Hughes hovered around them, concern etched all over his face.

“We have to go home, thank you for looking after Ed,” Winry said quickly before tugging Ed into the crowd and to try and push out of the school building.

“The gym, there’s- there’s an exit,” Ed tried to yell, but his voice was partially gone. Winry heard anyways and dragged them back away towards the gym that people were still pushing out of. Ed was absolutely miserable, and he definitely looked it. When they finally made it in, they saw Mustang and a few other students still standing by the stage. Probably explaining the next part of the Festival.

“Ah, Elric! Rockbell!” Mustang called out with a wide smile. His eyes were shining, as dark as they were, “We just finished up, Riza, Jean, they're here-”

“Sorry, Mustang, I’m afraid we can’t do dinner anymore,” Winry apologized. Ed shifted to half hide behind Winry. Mustang’s expression faltered slightly before tilting his head in confusion.

“Wait, what’s wrong- it’s Elric isn’t it.”

“Uh, family emergency,” Winry covered quickly, “Got to go!” 

“Wait- I’ll come with,” Hawkeye offered. Jean stepped away and shook his head. 

Ed just wanted to go  _ home _ . Why the fuck were Hawkeye and Mustang coming with? Well. They were on the train now. Hawkeye was sitting with Al at the end of the train, while Mustang stayed with Winry and Ed.

Ed was pressed against the window, curling up into a small ball. Now that the pressure was gone and the events were done and over with, he could be sick all he wanted with no consequence.

“He’s been sick all day,” Winry told Mustang quietly, “Ed was throwing up earlier. That should’ve cleared most of it out, though it might take a few more days. He’s been overworking his body and he got very little sleep last night.”

“Shut up,” Ed grumbled quietly.

“He might lose his voice too,” Winry added on with a glare. Mustang frowned. Ed looked away.

“What are you, my doctor?” he rasped.

“Yeah, actually,” Winry shot back before stripping off her jacket and tugging Ed’s arms through it. He was pretty sure he was sweating but it felt like he was about to freeze.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!” Mustang snapped at him. Ed offered a shrug. He wanted Winry to hold his arm. It was cold.

“Winryy,” Ed whined. Well not really whined. Just a high whistle-y sound, “Can you take my arm?”

Winry rolled her eyes before leaning forward to pull off three layers. Her hand was warm against his skin. She stuck her hand into his shirt to peel back the skin and reach for the latch on his shoulder. He let out a breath of relief when the heavy limb was no more. He lifted his right leg and sat on it. It was cold. His feet were cold.

When the train stopped, Ed tried to stand up and walk, only to find his vision slightly swimming and his body wanting to curl up in the warm spot he had made on the bench. He took one step forward- and found his legs being swept under him and his whole body being hefted up.

“Excuse me??” Ed shoved at Mustang’s chest. It was very warm, he could admit that, but he didn’t need to be carried! He could hear Winry start giggling somewhere behind him and he could feel a blush rise to his face, “‘m not a toddler, I don’t need to be carried.”

“Mhm, whatever you say.”

“Then put me down.”

“No can do,” Mustang stepped off the train and Ed was squished even closer to his body. He shouldn’t have taken off his arm.

“You’re going to get sick.”

“Alright.”

“You’ll feel miserable for days.”

“Uhuh.”

“Stop agreeing with me.”

“Okay.”

Ed gave up. He fell asleep.  _ Let _ Mustang shrivel up and be sick. That was fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed throws up in the bathroom and Maes is already being a dad. Halfway through posting this I had to go to school for something and I had an idea of what to edit but now I'm back and... the thought is gone. Liked it? Hated it? Let me know! Thanks :)


	21. Never Have I Ever...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed is confined to a bed for days, Mustang keeps him company.

The stupid hospital/patient room cot things were very uncomfortable. When Ed woke up he was layered under three blankets, his arm and leg were gone. He was alone in the room, the other two beds empty and made. 

It was night out, the moon casting light through the tall windows. He felt disgusting, sweaty and he probably smelled like vomit. 

Ed let out a cough before getting out of bed and swinging his leg over the side of the bed. Fuck, that hurt. His muscles were trying to scream yet also trying to stay still. Namely, his arm.

He moved a bit too quickly, vision swimming as he hopped around on one leg.

Get to his room. Don’t go near Al. Shower. Easy, it was simple. If his sneezes weren’t so goddamn loud. If he didn’t feel like he’s been torn apart. And if he didn’t nearly collapse onto Al’s bed while trying to get into the room. 

Mustang was in his bed. It was kind of small for him. Ed stared for a moment before his eyes roamed over to Al’s form.  _ Don’t get him sick _ , he reminded himself, pulling some clothes out of the closet. What time was it anyways? Was it always this cold in the middle of the night? Will his nose please stop running? Where was his arm? 

Oh. There lay his arm, on his desk, next to his unfinished homework. Wait he hasn’t been in the room. Mustang’s unfinished homework. The lazy bastard.

He hopped toward the bathroom in the hall and flicked on the light, wincing as his eyes struggled to adjust to the brightness. He twisted the shower on and winced at the sudden loud drum of water against the tiles. Ed stuck out an arm to feel the water before stepping in completely. It was so warm. And nice. And hot. He should probably hurry if he didn’t want to wake up the others.

When he stepped out the mirror was fogged and he reached out a hand to wipe off the condensation. He wrung out his hair, water still dripping down his back and pulled on the clothes he had grabbed. Sweatpants and tank top. Maybe the tank top wasn’t so wise, he was quickly reverting back into his frozen state. He quickly brushed his teeth and his hair was half dry when he gave up on looking presentable and threw aside the wet towel.

The floor was cold against his foot and he quickly hopped back to the patient room.

Ed dove under the three blankets and curled into a ball, falling asleep once more, just less sweaty and vomit-y.

“Hey, Elric. Wake up.”

No.

“Elric, you have to eat.”

No. 

“Your hair’s still wet, it’s kind of disgusting.”

“Fuck off,” Ed finally grumbled quietly, reaching out to smack someone’s head. Probably Mustang. Hopefully Mustang, “If I’m sick I do what I want.”

“You really are like a child, don’t you love soup?”

“I do, but I want sleep more.”

“You’ve slept for 18 hours.”

“‘M a growing boy.”

“God knows you need it.”

“Shut the fuck up and fuck off,” Ed rasped before turning to the other side. He heard some shuffling before he felt a presence before him. He peeked open one eye halfway. Mustang was holding a tray holding a bowl full of steaming soup and a glass of water. It did smell nice. Ed  _ was  _ very hungry. 

With a groan, he re-positioned himself on the bed, now sitting up. He accepted the bowl and spooned some soup into his mouth, letting out a quiet hum of appreciation. Well, his throat was kind of wrecked and it came out as more of a sound of a cat at a scratching post.

Mustang sat at the end of the bed cross legged and watched him with his head in the palm of his hand.

“Where’s Hawkeye?” Ed asked after finishing off the last of the stew. Mustang looked away for a second before responding.

“They ah, they wouldn’t trust me to get groceries.”

Ed snorted, “The fact that you called it ‘groceries’. They’re ‘going to the market’, bastard.”

‘You’re also not allowed out of this room for like three days.”

“Well you’re here, what if you get sick.”

“Well I guess we’re stuck here together, I could think of a few things to occupy our time,” Mustang leaned forward and Ed shoved him away, putting the tray to the side and slinking back down into the blankets.

“Get any closer and I’ll make sure to make you sick.”

“What happened to the ‘sheer force of will will kick the ass of whatever sickness comes my way’?” Mustang returned back to his spot and smirked.

“Anything that has been done will be all Tringham’s fault.”

“Didn’t you splash around in the rain?”

“Stuff like this is  _ passed on _ , dipshit, not pulled out of thin air,” Ed’s voice was muffled by the blankets but his eyes peaked over them, staring at Mustang, who stared right back, “I have a fever.”

“Yes,” Mustang agreed, “you do.”

‘If I cough on you, then you have a fever.”

Mustang send him a bemused look, “I supposed I do, then.”

“Now get out.”

“I can’t, quarantine, remember?”

* * *

Mustang left, eventually. He took a shower right after exiting the room and was monitored for a couple hours. 

All was fine. No, no. Ed was bored out of his mind. Mustang had the best track record with colds, having not had one in the past four years, and was the only one that was able to interact with Ed. Besides from Winry, who came in once a day with one of those witch doctor masks on to check up on Ed.

He was hot, he was cold, he was nauseous, he was coughing, he was sneezing. He was miserable. Bored out of his mind, he started to stare out the window, to try and estimate how far he could see. Mustang was humoring him, currently outside with a very long tape measure. Ed could see the tip of the tree a couple meters away from his old house. From the front door of the Rockbell house to the front door of the Elric house, Ed knew it was about 0.8 kilometers away. But he was inside the house, and the tree was even further. 

He spotted Mustang jogging back with tape measure in hand, with the accurate measurements.

“1.57 kilometers,” Ed declared once Mustang was back in the room. He turned away from the window as the door clicked shut.

“Nearly, it’s 1.61.”

“Well, fuck. I’m bored.”

“You’re still on bedrest for another two days,” Mustang reminded him, taking his seat at the end of Ed’s bed. He scowled and threw a balled up piece of paper at the other boy.

“Let’s play a game!”

“I don’t want to.”

“Well, you’re not going anywhere, we’re playing a game.”

“Fine, you bastard, what’s this game?” Ed forced fake enthusiasm onto his face and plastered on a smile.

“You don’t have to look like that, well we could play a multitude of games, truth or dare, 21 questions, I spy, 7 minutes in heaven-”

“Are you  _ trying _ to get me to punch you?” Ed growled. His hand clenched around his blankets as Mustang chuckled before rolling his eyes.

“Just kidding!” he sang, “How about ‘Never Have I Ever’ but like… reverse.”

“So we’re just listing things we’ve done.”

“Yeah. First to 10, I’ll go first! Never have I ever gotten drunk.”

“Teenage delinquent much?” Ed snorted. He couldn’t say he’s gotten drunk before, though. Mustang held up his pointer finger. Ed couldn’t help but notice how long his hands were. He’d be great at piano… not that Ed could play piano.

“Never have I ever been stranded on an abandoned island with my brother with nothing except a knife to ponder our existence for a month,” he rattled off. Mustang’s mouth dropped open slightly and he raised an eyebrow.

“That’s… oddly specific. And slightly terrifying,” Mustang commented, staring at the finger Ed held up. He stuck up his middle finger. “Mature.”

“Shut the fuck up, just say something.”

“Never have I ever… pretended like I wasn’t sick for a day so I could participate in a school event.”

"That’s targeting! Fuck, fine, whatever. Never have I ever broken someone’s foot.”

Mustang coughed before holding up a finger. What the fuck. 

“Moving on! Never have I ever… kissed someone?”

“Who do you take me for?!” Ed was very offended. Of course he’s kissed someone! Granted, it was Winry, and then he decided yeah, he was very gay, but the details don’t matter.

“Really? Who?”

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve done it, I get my point, it’s my turn. Never have I ever had more than five people do my hair,” Ed had to come up with better ones. Mustang put up yet another finger, that made his entire hand.

“I grew up with a lot of girls.”

“You have sisters??”

“No. Never have I ever climbed to the top of the uprights.”

“The what?”

“Those yellow goalpost things on the football field. I think.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve done that before.”

“Elric, you don’t even play football.”

“That never stopped anyone before. Never have I ever had a parental figure walk out on me.” 

Mustang raised a finger. Ed became even more confused. The fuck- who was Mustang?? What did Ed even know about him?!

“The plot thickens,” he said to fill the silence.

“Never have I ever lit a tree on fire, nearly starting a forest fire when it spread to three other ones.”

“Hold up,  _ three other ones?? _ I get the ‘lit a tree on fire’ I’ve done that before, but- oh my god you’re a fucking pyromaniac, aren’t you?”

Mustang got a small smirk on his face, “Well, I’m winning. Better catch up, Elric.”

“Never have I ever flipped a table.” Haha, got him. That table ended up slamming into Envy, who was thrown back into a wall, but then Ed was already out of the classroom and blending into the swarm students.

“Can’t say I’ve done that, never have I ever stayed up for 48 hours straight and then had someone force me to sleep while sitting in the room with me.”

“That was oddly specific,” Ed mocked before putting up a finger, “Al and I used to do that all the time. Never have I ever tried to do a back flip but instead I kicked another kid’s head, giving him a mild concussion. He’s fine, though.”

“At this I shouldn’t be surprised. Hm… never have I ever… licked someone.”

Ed leaned over, grabbed Mustang’s hand, and licked it, “C’mon, that was just asking for it. Game’s over, now get out and go take a shower or whatever.”

“Ed, did you just fucking lick him?!” Winry shrieked from the doorway, Ed froze, still holding Mustang’s hand. “You are SICK. Mustang, get out, go- clean, whatever. Now,  _ Edward _ .”

Mustang got out of there real quick, but Ed was stuck. In bed. With a furious Winry approaching.

“You  _ know _ that Mustang sleeps in your bed, which, if you don’t remember, is next to  _ Al _ . What happened to that  _ genius _ of yours??” Winry stomped over and slammed her bag down where Mustang was sitting a few moments ago. She shoved a thermometer at him and then pulled out a few cough medicines. 

Ew. All of them were disgusting, especially the grape flavored ones. Cherry was okay, but was sickening all the same. Once, Ed asked Winry for the cough medicines adults used, but it was equally disgusting, just without the flavoring.

Winry forced the syrup down his throat and retrieved the thermometer. 

“Your fever’s gone down, that’s good,” she informed him, “But you’re still stuck in here. Mustang might be banned too.”

“Wait, Winry, please, no! I swear- I won’t lick him, it was a one time thing!” Ed begged, “I’m bored out of my mind here, Win, please!”

Winry let out a sigh before levelling him with a glare, “Fine. But any funny business-”

“Don’t put it that way,” Ed grimaced at the term.

“Any contact and he’s out, got it?”

“In my defense-”

“ _ Watch it _ , Ed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed is stupid. The 'Mustang humors him' thing finally comes in play, but the tags and summary on this story are so outdated yet I haven't the slightest what to change them to. Liked this? Hated it? Let me know, thanks! :)


	22. Fame and Misfortune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed nearly gets assaulted and plans for Mustang's birthday.

When Ed was finally let out of the room and released into the real world, it didn’t change that much. He had to stay home another day for good measure. 

The morning was spent pacing around the house until Granny yelled at him, and then spending the rest of the day in the workshop helping Granny take stock.

“Ed, you’re famous!” Al exclaimed when he returned from school, “At least 5 people came up to me today, thinking I was you!”

“Wait, really? Why?” Ed sat up eagerly, casting aside the book he was reading.

“They all want you for their teams! They saw you at the Sports-”

“Oh hell no,” Ed groaned, god damn it.  _ This _ is why he didn’t want to do these type of things. People start kissing up to him, that part was actually pretty great, and then try and get him to do stuff for them. They compliment him, do favors, then go ‘but you owe me!’ Just like Mustang. Fuck.

Of course, the warning beforehand didn’t help anything. He hadn’t even stepped into school when he was stopped by a girl around Hawkeye’s height. She had a bob cut with brown hair, as well as strikingly blue eyes.

“Are you Edward Elric?” she inquired, stopping him in his path.

“Yes, why?” he already knew why. He already knew.

“Well, I'm on the track team, and I was wondering, would you ever-”

“No, thanks, I’m not interested,” Ed ran away. Teacher raised an eyebrow when he sprinted into her office and slammed the door.

  
“Office hours aren’t open yet, Edward.”

“Please help.”

“Hah, Alphonse was complaining about it yesterday. There’s a price to pay for winning.”

“Fuck me,” Ed groaned. The door opened behind him.

“Who’s fucking you?” Why’s it always Mustang there?

“Fuck off.”

“Office hours are now open, get out Edward.”

* * *

Ed was going insane, he was sure of it. It felt like eyes were on him, watching him from every corner. Someone trying to catch his eye, someone trying to jump him, that was probably Envy, actually, or someone trying to get him alone.

A curvy blond girl stopped him and pulled him into an empty classroom before he had any time to react. Ed was slightly alarmed when she shut the door behind them. Where the fuck was the teacher? Oh shit probably lunch break.

“Hey, you’re Ed, right?”

“Uh, yeah? Is there uh, anything you need,” Ed stuttered. Oh, how he wanted to say ‘yes, now fuck off I don’t want to talk to you’. The girl seemed to… puff up? Like one those birds that puffed up their chests to attract mates or something. 

“That’s perfect! My name is Katie, and well, I’ve heard a lot about your… talents,” she shifted forward and placed her hand on Ed’s arm. Oh shit, fuck, please go away. He took a step back away from her reach, but the girl just pressed on, following his every step until the back of his leg bumped against a desk.

“Please, get off, or I will make you,” he said quietly, but the girl ignored it.

“The volleyball team, well we’ve heard quite some tales,” she batted her lashes before forcing Ed back further, “We- well,  _ I _ -”

“This is your last warning, get. Off.” Ed cut her off, loudly this time, and reiterated his previous request. He raised an arm to push her shoulder.  


“Baby-”

“He said to get off,” a smooth voice entered the room. The fuck- Mustang was standing in the open doorway with his arms crossed. Ed has never felt so relieved in his life that Mustang chose to appear at that very moment. In two strides he had crossed the room and pulled Ed away and to his side, “hey, babe.”

Mustang pressed a kiss to his cheek and Ed forced himself to relax. Maybe staying sick wouldn’t have been so bad. The girl in front of him squeaked and flushed at the sight of Mustang.

“Oh my god- you have a boyfriend?” she shrieked before starting to sputter, “I- I’m sorry, I had no clue-”

“So, had I not intervened you would have just continued?” Mustang voice was cold as he hugged Ed to his side. The girl paled and bolted out of the classroom. Ed paused for a moment before shoving Mustang away and wiping his cheek with his sleeve.

“Thanks, but you can get off of me, now,” he felt a bit dizzy, “Did she just try what I think she did?”

“Tried to pressure you into a decision. Has this happened before?” 

“No, will that happen again?”

“Well, if the rumor mill is anything to go by, I’ll probably be dumped by noon and you’ll start getting harassed by study hall. Think it’ll keep people away from trying to use sex appeal or whatever.”

“Fuck,” Ed groaned before hanging his head back. He closed his eyes for a moment. First, getting sick and being bedridden, then when he finally gets better, he was forced to stay home for a day, and then when he actually gets to do something, he gets harassed for a whole day.

“Math… I’ve got to go to Math,” he opened his eyes once more. Mustang was concerned, that much was obvious. Ed suddenly felt very tired. He walked out the open door and found that there were barely any students out.

The bell rang. Fuck. He turned on his heel and sprinted down the hall, up the staircase, and caught Hawkeye just as she moved to close the door.

“Elric, you are late,” there was the teacher.  


“Sorry, I- I was caught up in something.”

“Something more important? Just take a seat.”

Ed nodded and took his place at a table next to Hawkeye. Roy materialized beside him a few moments later.

“Holy shi- what the fuck? How did you- what?” Ed nearly fell out of his seat in shock. Mustang had a smirk on his face. Fucking bastard, so Ed gets told off, but he can show up even later and doesn’t even get a slap on the wrist? He glared at Mustang, unable to get the notion of him kissing his cheek out of his mind.

“Everyone has their secrets,” Mustang said with a slight grin still on his face. 

“Bet. I know you better than you know you. Actually, that would be Hughes,” Ed challenged. The teacher finally stopped talking… something about tangents? And started handing out their worksheet, instructing them to ask if they had any questions.

“Yeah? Well I know you- actually I don’t know that much about you.”

“After school on Wednesdays you say you’re at Science Olympiad but you're actually behind the bleachers.”

“You  _ what?! _ ” Hawkeye looked up in disbelief. Oh wait were they a thing? Ed wasn’t sure, he could never really get a clear read on Hawkeye.

“Wait what the fuck?! How did you know that??” Mustang’s jaw was open.  _ Oh, how the tables have turned _ , Ed thought with a slight smirk.

“The girl’s rumor mill reaches further than you think.”

“Why do you never tell me this stuff,” Mustang complained to Hawkeye, who was still frowning as she flipped over the paper. Oh shit she was fast. Ed finally scratched his name down on the line. The date? Uh… October twenty something. Oh wait no, it was November now, wasn’t it? Third? Sure. 

“You always ask out whoever Jean has his eyes on without knowing it,” Ed continued, what was it, five? His eyes jumped over to the circle, no, the radius was four.

“That’s true,” Hawkeye jumped into, flipping her paper back over to check it over, “What’d you get for the third question?”

“A is a tangent, C isn’t.”

“Yeah, same.”

“Hey, don’t ignore me! What do you mean??”

“Is line DE a chord?”

“Mhm, I think I’m going to go up to check,” Hawkeye said before pushing her seat out and leaving the table. Ed turned his paper over and scanned over the page.

“How the fuck do you know this stuff?” Mustang stared at him.

“I’m observant, pretty sure you know most stuff about anyone, you notice a lot of stuff. At least, more than the average student. Which isn’t a high bar, by the way, so don’t get big headed. Most people here are so self centered they think the teachers ought to bow to their will.” 

Hawkeye returned with a second worksheet. Mustang watched her for a moment.

“You carry around breath mints in your back pocket.”

That caught his attention. He squinted at Ed for a moment before a flirtatious smile took over his face. Ed recoiled, this was a mistake.

“Have you been staring at my ass?”

“You fucking bastard!”

* * *

Just as Mustang had predicted, the girl he had been dating slapped him across the face and dumped him and Ed was nearly kidnapped by that same girl. Anything he denied had pretty much solidified whatever thought was in the girl’s mind.

Envy was an entirely different matter, between the taunting, the hissing, and the leering, Ed was pretty sure Envy was skipping classes just to corner him. He couldn’t wait for Envy to graduate. Wait, if he was skipping classes does that mean he would have to retake the year? Ed prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that it wouldn’t happen.

* * *

It took about three weeks for the excitement to die down. Ed was not having fun. Dragging Al and Winry around hide during lunch and study hall was not fun for them either. In those three weeks, he learned that among the many things he did know about Mustang, one of them was not his birthday.

Ed knew Havoc’s, he was a spring baby, he found out Hawkeye’s through Havoc, she was in July. But Mustang? He didn’t have a clue.

“Hey, when’s your birthday?” Ed asked casually during Biology. He felt Mustang stiffen for a moment before turning to him.

“Tomorrow,” he replied. Ed physically stopped.

“Excuse me,  _ what _ .”

“My birthday is on the 25th. That’s tomorrow.”

“Yeah, no shit, bastard, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well, it’s not a big deal… I’ve had 15 of them now.”

“And you’ll continue to have more! It’s a celebration! Of you!” Ed exclaimed. Mustang just hummed in response. The teacher was staring at him. Perhaps he was a bit too loud. What could Ed do? Maes Hughes. That was it, he was the solution. Hughes knew everything about Mustang, right? But… Ed didn’t know that much about Hughes either.

  1. He spent every Tuesday and Thursday at that bakery Gracia worked at
  2. Hughes liked Gracia
  3. He was in his third year
  4. Hughes and Mustang were friends
  5. He used to live in Central and is planning to move back for college



That wasn’t a very long list. Luckily, it was a Tuesday, which meant he knew exactly where the guy would be after school.

“So, Mustang’s birthday is tomorrow and he wants to do absolutely nothing, the dipshit,” Ed announced to Al and Winry, who frowned.

“Well, if that’s what he wants-”

“I’m not taking no for an answer, which means we’re going to that bakery Mustang bought us a pie from.”

“You mean he bought  _ you _ a pie from,” Al corrected. Ed rolled his eyes.

“Either way, we have to go.”

The two of them didn’t object, and so they all entered Gracia’s lovely bakery and dragged Hughes away from the counter at a table near the back. He watched them with an amused smile.

“Did you find out about Roy’s birthday? I figured, I have a 32 step plan for tomorrow,” he grinned before pulling out two sheets of paper. Just as he said, there were 32 bullet points stating exactly what would happen. “I suppose I could factor you three in there somehow.”

“Holy hell-” Ed muttered, “Alright, walk me through it. Oh shit we’ve got to get something for Mustang.”

“Something as big and embarrassing as possible,” Hughes suggested, “He hates it when his birthday is made a spectacle.”

“Oh, I can  _ do _ big and embarrassing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...guesses for what Ed's about to do? Liked this chapter? Hated it? Ed hated it, that's for sure. Let me know, thanks :)


	23. Operation: Embarrass the Birthday Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed makes a ruckus about Mustang's birthday but just end up embarrassing himself

Ed took a deep breath as he stepped off the train and mentally prepared himself for what was about to happen.  


  


When he approached the school, his eyes roamed over the crowd. He spotted a head with raven hair. Target acquired. Ed plastered a sappy smile onto his face and Al patted him on the back as he started to run.  


  


“Roy!” Ed exclaimed Mustang turned around just in time to catch Ed jumping onto him. Ed wrapped his arms around his neck and felt Mustang's arms circle around him. He made sure that people could hear him.   


  


“Elric- what the fu-” Mustang stumbled back from his added weight.

  


“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY!” Ed yelled at him. If everyone didn’t hear him before, he most definitely caught their attention now. 

  


He pressed a loud kiss to his cheek, okay how the fuck was Mustang’s skin so smooth? Ed  _ wishes _ he could have skin like this. Mustang’s arms were still wrapped around his waist and his eyes were wide with confusion. Ed pushed on his shoulder and was set down. 

  


"Now I know you don't like to celebrate that much, but I want you to know how much I love you!" Ed said loudly, reaching up to kiss his other cheek. "See you later, babe!"  


  


He shoved a small wrapped box into his hands and skipped away, waving over his shoulder. H e went around the school to the back entrance.

  


“Nice performance,” Hughes sniggered. Ed dropped the smile and started blushing like crazy.

  


“Holy  _ fuck _ that was- that was fun. But oh god, that was so embarrassing,” he moaned. Ed buried his head in his hands and Winry burst out laughing. 

  


“That was amazing!” she was still laughing. Asshole. Winry wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. Al was no help either, laughing alongside Winry when he returned from where he was watching around the building.

  


“I think you might’ve sold it a bit  _ too _ well,” he chuckled. Ed let out a loud whine and buried his head back into his arms, sinking down to sit on the ground.

  


“You definitely checked the ‘big and embarrassing’ box,” Hughes stated with a wide smile, leading to even more laughter from Winry, “That was a fantastic start, leave the rest to us, your job is done.”

  


“Thank god, I don’t think I’d be able to carry on.”

  


Then came the age old problem, sharing half of his classes with Mustang. Ed slinked into the gym and headed straight for the locker room to pull on his skin sleeve and change. Afterward he slid into Teacher’s office and slid the door shut with a click.

  


“Heard about your little show, care to tell me about it?” she asked. Ed let out a pitiful moan.

  


“The teachers know about it too?”

  


“The girls won’t stop gossiping, what did you think about kissing the school’s star quarterback?”

  


“It was supposed to be embarrassing for  _ him _ , not for me!”

  


“Tough luck,” she laughed, “Bell rings in ten, we’re starting another unit today. Volleyball. I wonder if I should assign teams?”

  


“Teacher, please.”

  


When they began class, Jean appeared at Ed’s side with a wide grin on his face. 

  


“So I see Maes roped you in,” he grinned. Ed glanced around for Mustang and his face heated up. He was probably still in the locker room, “It’s my turn next, though I don’t think it’ll top yours.”

  


“Can you just shut the fuck up and do it?” he hissed. Jean laughed before pulling out a box. A ring box.

  


“Are you about to fucking propose??” Ed’s eyes widened. Jean nodded.

  


“Between your little act and this, we’ll set the school ablaze.”

  


Ed snorted, “That’s Mustang’s job, he’s the pyromaniac here.”

  


“Talking about me, Elric? You should've said something if you were so fond of me. Also, give Maes a big 'fuck you', will you?” Mustang appeared behind them. Ed nearly jumped at his voice and forced himself not to look at him.

  


“Oh I don’t know, babe, I thought that was clear?” Ed replied. The fuck was he doing. Well, maybe have a bit more fun. Fun? No, embarrassment. For him. Damn it. He sent a look to Jean,  _ do it now, please. _ Jean’s face adopted a wide sappy grin and as Teacher called the room to attention he walked up to whisper something to her. She rolled her eyes before hooking up a microphone and handing it to Jean.

  


“Ahem- hello, I’m Jean Havoc. Two years ago, I met the love of my life, yet I was afraid that he would never feel the same way about me. Funny, charming, and the sweetest person in Amestris. So many adventures and have been shared between us, and now I profess my love in front of you all. Today will be a special day, one to be remembered for years to come. The reason being,” Jean got down on one knee and pulled the box, flicking it open with his finger. Ed covered his mouth in a mock gasp,  _ was Jean actually crying? _ “Roy Mustang, my best friend, my one true love, will you marry me?”

  


The entire class let out a collective gasp and everyone turned toward Mustang and Ed. Ed swore he heard someone burst into tears at the declaration. Mustang was most definitely red now, and possibly dying inside. He slowly stepped up to the front of the class and accepted the microphone.

  


“Jean…” Mustang said softly, pulling him up to his feet, “I-”

  


Ed stepped forward but then paused, let Jean have his fun.

  


It sounded like this entire thing was scripted, the class gasping and ‘aww’ing in unison at all the right parts.

  


“I’m sorry, Jean, but my heart is committed to another,” Mustang seized Ed around the waist. His finger purposefully dug into Ed’s side and Ed had to resist the urge to squirm and laugh. A fucking tear slid out of Jean’s eye. 

  


“I- I knew it, I’m so sorry, on your birthday too, I-” Jean gasped and crumpled to the ground. Ed paused for a moment before collapsing into giggles, soon Jean joining in and Mustang laughing out. Ed was sure all three of them were red in the face, but Teacher had a good laugh before shooing them away and instructing them to put up the nets.

  


“If this is just the start of the day, I’m afraid of what awaits me,” Mustang sighed. Ed patted him on the cheek before detaching himself and heading to the supply room to grab a pole.

  


* * *

  


Hawkeye ended up pulling Mustang into a full on salsa during lunch (fucking city people) which ended with her spinning Mustang around 9 times, nearly crashing into three tables along the way, and dipping him low. 

  


“Why must you guys be this way?” Mustang complained, dropping into an open seat, flushed and sweaty.

  


“It’s your birthday, man!” one of the football players chirped. That seemed to be the excuse for everything that had happened so far. Emphasis on the so far.

  


* * *

  


At the end of the day, right as the bell rang, Hughes busted open the door and pointed at Mustang.

  


“Roy Mustang!” he hollered. The third years in Drama froze, having seen only a fraction of what had happened during the day. Hughes marched over and Mustang froze in his place, still packing his papers away. Hughes stuffed the rest of them into Mustang’s backpack and swung it over his shoulder next to his own. 

  


In one smooth motion, he swept Mustang off his feet, quite literally, and Mustang let out an undignified squawk. Ed stared with a wide smile. 

  


Hughes was carrying Mustang in his arms, the latter blushing bright red now, and everybody was captivated. The Drama teacher seemed to have shut down, malfunctioned, she was watching the scene with bright eyes. Ed could see the cogs turning in her brain.

  


Hughes kissed Mustang full on the mouth, who let out a muffled “mmph!”, before prancing out of the class and out of the school. 

  


"Gracia let me do that, by the way," he added as an afterthought. Ed followed, cackling madly, which drew Al and Winry toward them, Jean and Riza joining the party soon afterward. A few other kids on the football team followed Hughes, who was leading the way with Mustang in his arms. 

  


“Gracia!” Hughes sang as Hawkeye opened the door to let them in. She appeared from the back room, a cake held in her hands.

  


“Happy birthday, Roy!” she exclaimed. Mustang was set down at a table and the cake was set before him, 16 candles stuck in the center. Everybody in the bakery, which was about 12 people, started singing happy birthday to Mustang, who was torn between basking in the attention and burying his head in his arms for the next five years. It was off key, horribly so, but the point was made, it was his birthday. 

  


“We figured you would want to light your own cake,” Gracia told him.

  


“Uh… I don’t have a lighter.”

  


“You haven’t opened the gift I gave you?” Ed asked. Mustang shook his head before pulling it out of his book bag. He unwrapped the box and pulled out a lighter. It was crudely painted, flames against a black background on one side with his name scratched on the other. He raised an eyebrow at Ed, who crossed his arms and started to defend himself.

  


“You were the one who nearly started a forest fire.”

  


He rolled his eyes before lighting all the candles. Gracia’s dad came out, a tall man with sandy brown hair and green eyes. He flicked off all the lights, Mustang’s face was suddenly illuminated by the candles glowing atop the cake. 

  


“Make a wish!’ Hughes encouraged. He closed his eyes for a moment before blowing out all the candles. 

  


“The fuck?” Ed’s voice was loud, “How did you get all of them??”

  


The lights came back on just in time for Ed to catch Mustang’s wink. Gracia’s dad came forward with a cake knife and handed it to Mustang. 

  


“Happy birthday, Roy.”

  


“Thanks,” he cut a line through the cake and they all caught a glance of the inside, “Is this a fucking Devil’s Food Cake?”

  


“Ed’s idea. Sticking with the fire thing,” Gracia grinned. Mustang rolled his eyes before placing the first piece on a plate to the side. He cut out the rest of the cake and everyone waited until he took a bite before cheering and eating themselves.

  


“Thank you,” Mustang said to Ed quietly, “for the gift.”

  


He grinned at him, “Not for the kiss?”

  


“Well, that too, I suppose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed kissed Roy! Well, on the cheeks. Maes was the one who actually stole the kiss :) Liked it? Hated it? Let me know, thanks :)


	24. Fucking Around Town Square

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed finds out about Al's crush and starts scheduling practice again.

Al was acting weird. He had a dopey grin on his face half the time, spaced out far too many times to be normal, and he was always staring at  _ something _ halfway across the cafeteria. Ed could find two possible solutions. One: Al was on drugs, high as a kite. Or, two:

“Alphonse Elric, do you have a crush?” Ed demanded during lunch. Al snapped to attention, tearing his eyes away from whatever- or whoever -he was staring at for the first time in 15 minutes. 

“Uh… no?”

“Lies!” Winry exclaimed, leaning across the table to stare into Al’s eyes.

“It’s that new girl, isn’t it? The transfer student from Xing,” Ed thought back, yes, she was a bit of a brat. The first thing she had done upon arriving at the school had been to find the absolute worst people to hang out with and become their servant.

“How- how’d you know?”

“Well, you weren’t acting like this two weeks ago, that’s for sure.”

“She doesn’t even know who I am.”

“Eh, don’t put yourself down so quickly,” Ed shrugged. He chewed on a baby carrot he stole from Al’s lunch. 

“Aww, baby Al’s in love!” Winry cooed, ruffling his hair. Al flushed pink before swatting her hand away.

“I’m only a year younger than you!”

“I’ll be back in a second, I need to talk to Mustang.” Ed swung his leg around the bench and nudged for Feury to move aside at the other table. Ed sat across from Mustang and Hawkeye, who looked up and greeted him.

“It’s been a month, when do we start up practice again?” He snagged an apple slice from Mustang.  


“I don’t know, football is cutting back since we won’t have games until spring starting December, are we going to continue practice outside?” Mustang pushed the rest of the bag toward Ed, who accepted it gratefully. Maybe it was just his imagination, but Mustang's hand seemed to linger for a second before pulling back.  


“Yeah, builds up endurance and breath control.”

“Alright, football’s on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Should we up the amount of our practices?”

“Sure, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday?”

“Okay, starting when?”

“Second of December.”

“Got it.”

A short silence followed, where Ed was itching to just get up and walk away, but it didn’t seem like the right time. He chewed on the apple skin.  


“That,” Jean started, staring at the two of them, “was scary.”

“What?”

“You guys are so… in sync, it’s kind of creepy.”

“Uh, alright. I’ve got to go crack Al’s crush, see you next block.”

* * *

“Brother!” Al cried, “Do you think my Xingese is good enough to impress a Xingese girl??”

“Uh, I don’t know. Go ask Mr. Wan or something.”   
  


“Alright!” Al nearly tripped over himself grabbing his book bag and sprinting out of the house. Ed let out a weary sigh. Ah, young love. Winry came into his and Al’s room and laid on the bed next to Ed. She grabbed his hand and closed her eyes.

  
“Does she even know he exists?”

“Maybe, Al’s top of his class.”

“Why can’t you be like Al? Have a crush and get so excited? You’re just a Grinch all the time,” Winry pouted. Ed scoffed and tugged his hand out of her hold.

“Why can’t  _ you _ be like Al? You have a crush instead!”

“Yeah, I could, but you wouldn’t even get excited and gossip about him with me, so I have to depend on you to have the crush. What about Mustang? He seems interested in you.”

Ed sighed and his face heated up.  _ Mustang _ . “He’s a bastard. A playboy. Even if that ever happened I doubt it would last, you know how he is.”

He felt Winry shift and sit up beside him, “So you’re saying there’s a chance?”

“It would never happen.”

“Stop being a wet blanket, just answer the question.”

“No.”

“Well, you kissed him that one time.”

“What? When?”

“On his birthday, remember? It was like a week ago…”

His face was definitely red now, “Oh, I’ve been trying to repress the memory.”

“I’m bored, come on, we should go into town and see if Jake wants to hang out.”   
  


“Yeah, whatever,” Ed opened his eyes again and held out his hand for Winry to hand him his arm. He attached it and had Winry latch it on.

“Granny! Ed and I are going out!”

“Be back before 4! Ren is coming by then!” Granny called from the back. Winry pushed open the door and Ed stuck his hands in his pockets. The two strolled into town and toward one of the three restaurants in Resembool.

“Mr. Quinn?” Winry called, stepping in, it smelled like parsley inside. The inside of the restaurant was a bit stuffy, and the lights hanging from the ceiling were dim and warm. “Mr. Quinn? Is Jake here?”

Jake Quinn came tumbling out from behind the counter, “You called? Are you here to marry me?”

“No, dumbass, we’re here to murder you,” Ed glared, “Come on we’re going to go fuck around the town square, we brought chalk.”

“We did? When?”

“I grabbed it on our way out.”

“I can’t just leave-” Jake protested.

“Get out of here, Jake! You’ve done nothing but sleep behind the counter!” his dad called from the kitchen. Ed covered his mouth with his hand as he laughed, and Jake sulked as Winry dragged him to the center of town. She dumped out the box of chalk Ed had brought and grabbed the blue. 

Ed clenched the chalk and forced his automail to stay steady. Fuck, okay, that wouldn’t work. He grimaced as he transferred the red chalk over to his left hand. No one would be able to tell what he drew, but it’s the effort that counts, right? Unless… he drew something so simple… and recognizable. 

“Ed did you just make a drawing to flip everyone off?”

Ed stood up and put his hands on his hips proudly to admire his masterpiece.

“Yup! You can tell what it is, right?”

“Ed- you can’t do that in the  _ town square! _ ” Winry shrieked. Jake was laughing his ass off behind her while she scolded Ed. 

“Relax, Win, ‘sides, none of the kids will be able to tell what it is!”

“Did Brother draw a hand flipping everyone off?” Al appeared behind Ed. He jumped back and swore.

“Holy shit- Al where the fuck did you come from??”

“Mr. Wan’s place. He called me ‘adequate’ so that should be good enough, right?” 

“Sure…”

“Al, can you keep chalk away from Ed while I erase his drawing?” Winry sighed, plucking Ed’s chalk out of his hands.

“Hey, wait-” Ed reached for the stolen stick only to be held back by Al. He pouted. Why does he hang out with these people.

* * *

“Isn’t this nostalgic?” Jean gushed, peering out the window of the moving train. Ed rolled his eyes.

“It’s only been a month, dumbass.”

“Oh how I’ve missed your sarcasm,” he continued to grin at the window. Ed let out a yawn and blinked away the tears that made their way to his eyes.

“Should we try and ‘scope out’ the competition?” Hawkeye asked. 

“Like… go to the other cities and watch their teams?”

“I don’t know, yeah.”

“Depends, do you have a weekend free?” Ed asked. She gave a half-assed shrug.

“I mean… we could. We have four people, and four other cities,” Mustang was developing a 50 step plan, Ed was sure of it.

“I could go South and stay in Dublith,” Ed offered. Al quickly jumped on and Winry mentioned wanting to visit a city called Rush Valley or something.

“If Rebecca’s free I’m sure she’d want to go to North City with me,” Hawkeye added.

“My aunt lives in Central.”

“...I don’t have a choice do I? Man, I’m always stuck with the leftovers,” Jean complained, leaning his head against the window with a thud.

“How about Winter Break? We have a week and a half off, the other students ought to train on at least half of those days.”

“So basically everyone but us,” Ed snorted. “I want to be in Resembool for Christmas, Granny always makes a ton of ham and pie.”

“Then the last couple days of break? Of course, we’ve got to get permission. And someplace to stay.”

“This is like a secret mission, is there anything in the rule book about spying on opponents?” Ed grinned. Havoc raised his head from the window.

“There’s a rule book??”

“Jean, if you look hard enough there’s a rule book for everything,” Riza commented, “Train’s about to stop, get your stuff together.”

“Oh hey, Roy, Riza, Jean,” Mr. Bushell, who worked at the train station, greeted them when they stepped off, “Haven’t seen you kids around in a while.”

“It’s good to see you, Mr. Bushell, I’m afraid we can’t stop to talk, though,” Mustang said as he was pushed away. He gave a final wave before turning to Ed, who was shoving him off of the platform. He raised an eyebrow.

“You seem very eager to touch me.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Can’t, train’s gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter, anyone? I don't have many notes for this, so, did you like it? Did you hate it? Feedback is appreciated. Thanks :)


	25. Nerd Con

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Al find out that Mustang is smart.

It seemed Ed had the ability to make himself, and everyone around him, late every other day. Thi pattern did not stop just because Team Mustang was here. Winry’s most recent find was that if she just ditched him, then at least she and Al could make it to school on time. 

“FUCK YOU, WINRY!” Ed yelled at her. She flipped him off over her shoulder and he cursed before slipping a hair tie over his wrist. “Havoc, we gotta go, they left us behind.”

“Shit- what?”

“Train’s leaving and so are they.”

“Fuck.”

Ed hoped Winry had a hairbrush in her bag, at the least. He grabbed his own bag and smacked Jean on the shoulder before sprinting out of the house, chasing after the others already at the station.

“You fucking asshole,” he gasped, glaring at Winry. She gave him a bright smile. They filed on the train and Ed pawed at her bag. She rolled her eyes before pulling out her brush and handing it to him. For once, nobody bothered him as he brushed out his hair and braided it.

Until Jean got bored and snatched his hair tie away from him and started to play with his bangs. Ed waved his hand around trying to take it back while the other was wrapped around the end of his braid. 

  
He gave up with a growl and let go of the braid, hair untwisting itself. Ed crossed his arms and pouted as Jean knelt down in front of him and pulled together his bangs. 

The fucking prick tied it straight up. Like a unicorn. Like a deer with a horn in the middle of it’s forehead. Like a rhino but higher. He might’ve fallen asleep somewhere between Jean tying up his hair and arriving at the train station, but nothing had changed. He sneezed as soon as he woke up and when he opened his eyes everyone was still staring at him.

“What?”

“You sneezed,” Mustang stated. Ed sniffed, he couldn’t be sick again, could he? Way too soon. 

“I’m not sick.”

“Even if you were, you’d still say that,” Al snorted before gathering his stuff and stepping off. Ed wrinkled his nose at Mustang before following after his brother and Winry.

“Who’s going to tell him?” Jean muttered from behind him. Ed turned around, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Tell me what? Don’t tell me I drooled on myself or something.”

“You sneeze like a kitten… it’s adorable,” Hawkeye stated. Ed cringed at the description and spun around quickly.

“Yeah… goodbye! This conversation has ended,” he said loudly, dashing into the school. So what, he has sneezed like that, and he will always sneeze like that! That was something he actually liked, he and Al both sneezed like Mom. Hohenheim had one of those blow up everything in a kilometer radius and left the house ringing, Mom had a quiet kitten like sneeze, ‘a-choo!’.

“Hey Ed,” Jean snuck up behind him and grabbed both of his shoulders, resting his head on Ed’s shoulder. He blew a small breath of air at his face.

“The fuck you want,” Ed grumbled, pushing Jean’s face away with his palm and using the other to scratch his nose. 

“Can you sneeze, please?”

“Why, of course!” Ed exclaimed, “No, fuck off.”

“But it was so cute!”

“Mustang, your child has run loose,” Ed called. Mustang looked over and waved him off.

“He’s yours on the weekdays.”

Ed rolled his eyes before elbowing Havoc off and reaching down with his automail to scoop up Jean’s legs. He stumbled a few steps back from the added weight, what made Ed think someone like half a foot taller than him wouldn’t be heavy? Don’t know. Jean scrambled around from a hold around Ed’s neck as he carried him across the gym to where Mustang’s back was turned.

“Not on Wednesdays, those are for bingo nights,” he dumped Jean on the bleachers before retreating to the locker room to change. 

Mustang walked in just as he shoved his boot back on. He place his leg on the bench to lace them up. Mustang took a seat on the bench next to Ed’s leg and leaned against it.

“I’ve dropped the baby off at the sitter’s place, now that we’re alone…”   
  
A blush crawled up Ed’s neck and he kneed his side, leaving him gasping.

“You know that kid’s not allowed to watch over Jean since he taught him what a cigarette was,” Ed scowled before marching out.

“Wait, you know that Jean smokes??” Mustang exclaimed as the door swung shut behind him. Of course he did, Jean smelled like smoke half the time, Hawkeye had just banned him from doing it during the practice days. He walked into the supply room to pull out one of the volleyball nets, the poles already being set up before the bell even rang.

“You’re blushing,” Jean cooed. Ed flipped him off.

* * *

“Hey Mustang, you’re heading to Central for break, right?” Ed asked from the ground, where he was leaning against Al’s leg. He hummed but didn’t look up from his papers. “Can you get me the new book someone by the name of ‘Dr. Mauro’ is releasing? It should be something related to-”

“Cell theory?” Mustang finished, looking up to meet Ed’s gaze, “Yeah, sure, I was going to get it myself.”

“Holy shit, you know Dr. Mauro’s work??” Ed exclaimed, Al looked up as well.

“Yeah, it’s kind of revolutionary, it’s a shame that no one really reads his stuff though.”

“Yes!” Al cried, “Brother, we’ve found another! Mustang, have you read his ‘for fun’ books? There’s this one, ‘1,000 Recipes for Everyday Use’ it’s all about deciphering codes, and there’s so much of his research encoded in it!”

“There’s his work in soul theory too!” Ed gushed, nearly salivating at the thought, “Just think of the possibilities if souls actually existed! It could completely alter what we know about the human body!”

“Don’t forget his work in the medical field, it covers a lot of the effects of souls on bodies,” Mustang added in. Jean was sending the three of them concerned looks while Hawkeye and Winry just shook their heads and sighed. 

“Have you seen his research on blood cells??”

“YES! You are so much cooler than I thought you were!” Ed yelled. Granny hollered for them to pipe down from the other room. Ed and Al both nodded to each other before dragging Mustang upstairs and into their room. 

“You know those papers he published like five years ago? The one on prosthetics? Winry always rolls her eyes when Brother and I talk about this stuff, but even she was hooked on it!” Al exclaimed. Ed shared his enthusiasm, and it seemed so did Mustang. For years, it was just him, Al, and the hundreds of journals Hohenheim had kept. But now…

“Ed! Al! Shut up!” Winry slammed open the door, “It’s nearly midnight!”

Ed shut his mouth and glanced outside. The moon was high in the sky, bright as ever. Whoops.

“Oh... heh, guess we lost track of time,” he gave her a sheepish smile and saw Al do the same. She rolled her eyes and smiled at them.

“You dumbasses, get to sleep soon or Ed’ll make everyone late again.”

“Okay, okay, one last thing, you know how he conducted the experiment about-”

  
“GO TO BED,” Winry screamed. Ed winced. Yeah, okay. Mustang bid them goodnight and left the room to the bathroom down the hall. 

“You should keep him,” Al whispered loudly. Ed threw a pillow at his brother’s head.

* * *

Ed was up and practically vibrating. When Al got out of the bathroom, he sat next to Ed at the breakfast table, staring at Mustang, who was very obviously trying to ignore the eyes on him. 

“Alright come on, we’re going,” Ed announced the moment the last person finished breakfast. Al grabbed Mustang’s bag and shoved it at his chest while Ed dragged him out the door. Mustang was basically being held in place by the two of them. 

The train stopped and sheep were being herded onto the train. Ed and Al shoved the other boy onto the fourth car, one in front of where the others should be. They spent the better part of the hour discussing the finer points of Mauro’s research on white blood cells. 

The three of them would’ve missed getting off the train if it weren’t for Winry, who had found where they were sitting and knocked on the window until they looked up.

“All of you,” she declared, “are a bunch of fucking nerds.”

“Automail freak!” Ed retorted.

“Science freak!”

“Gear head!”

“Get to class,” Al sliced a hand between the two of them and sent them both their separate ways. Oh, how Ed loved and hated how responsible his baby brother was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Alchemy doesn't exist I've replaced it with science I don't understand. Obviously the only option was to have the three of them go crazy over it. Like it? Hate it? Let me know. Thanks :)


	26. Christmas Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed has Christmas dinner.

When Ed brought up the topic of visiting South City, Teacher thought it over for a moment before agreeing.

“Sig and I were going to go down to visit Mason and see how the shop was going, I suppose you and Alphonse would do.”

“Awesome, thanks. Are you sure you don’t want to go home for Christmas?”

“We have a hundred more to spend.”

“ED! Do I bring my skirt? Or jeans? Will it be warm in South City? In Dublith? In Rush Valley??” WInry cried. Ed shrugged before throwing an onion at her. She frantically diced it up on the cutting board, Ed was concerned if she should be holding a knife in this state.

“Win, we still have like two weeks left.”

Winry stopped and turned to him with a disbelieving stare, “Ed, we’re leaving in two days.”

Hold the fuck up-  _ what. _

“Wait, two days??” Ed exclaimed, “Tell me you’re joking.” 

“Tomorrow’s Christmas,” Winry reminded him.

“Fuck- shit, Hawkeye’s coming tomorrow?? We’re leaving day after tomorrow?!”

“Yes! Don’t tell me you forgot about this?!”

“I forgot about this!” 

Ed did not realize he was out of time for presents. He had Al and Granny nailed down, but Hawkeye and Winry’s were half done. He was scrambling to finish Winry’s gift when the somebody entered downstairs.

“Ed! Al! Riza’s here!” Winry called from downstairs. Ed cursed quietly before stuffing it under his bed and went downstairs to greet her.

“Hey, Hawkeye. Merry Christmas,” Ed said, Al repeating the same thing after him. She nodded and shifted awkwardly. 

“Well, anyways,” Winry started, “Riza, you’ll be staying with me for the night, Ed already set up a cot.”

Riza stuck out a bit while they prepared for dinner. She tried her best to blend in and help out, but to the people of Resembool, “a dash of salt” meant about the size of a thumb, a “splash of soy sauce” was a bit more than a tablespoon and a half. All these terms were lost on Hawkeye, who was used to exact measurements while cooking.

“Gravy’s done!” Al called, “Turkey and ham will take 15 more minutes.”

“Mashed potatoes are on the table already,” WInry replied, “Granny, is the cranberry sauce done?”

“Nearly, Riza, hand me the whisk, will you?”

“Can someone help me peel the apples?” Ed asked, Hawkeye appeared and helped him peel the skin off while he sliced them into pieces.

“Ed, pieces need to be smaller,” Winry said, peering into the bowl before opening up the refrigerator to grab milk.

“So, why’re you spending Christmas here with us, again?” Ed asked, before grimacing at the wording, “Not that we don’t want you here… just why aren’t you with your family?”

“Oh, ah, it’s just me and my dad. He’s not… the  _ best _ father,” Hawkeye winced. Okay, abandon this topic and talk about something else.

“We should form a club,” Ed blurted out. He mentally berated himself,  _ idiot! Stop talking about this! _ “People with daddy issues, you, me, and Al.”

Hawkeye snorted at the suggestion, “Add Roy to the group.”

Mission abort. Ed moved away from her side to remove Al’s cooling gravy from the stove before flipping it on and adding his apples. Hawkeye sprinkled in some cinnamon.

“You’re learning,” Ed noted. She smiled before leaving his side to help Al with getting the ham out of the oven. He stirred around the apples and began to think. Daddy issues, huh? Everyone seems to have their own demons. If Ed ever saw the fucking slug Hohenheim again, it would be far too soon. Then he would probably fucking slug him.  


Where was Mustang anyways? He had an aunt in Central, yet he lived alone in East City. He was probably in Central now, enjoying the holidays with his family. Jean seemed to be halfway normal, at least. Two sisters, a mother, a father. Didn’t they run a general store or something?

Ah, to be normal and not fucked up, wearing tacky Christmas sweaters knitted by batshit crazy grandmas. Yes, Granny was also crazy.

Ed absentmindedly looked across the kitchen to where Hawkeye stood. And the last, Riza Hawkeye, spending Christmas with another family. What did her dad do that would make her want to purposefully avoid him. Hawkeye… would she be related to the scientist? Berthold Hawkeye? It wasn’t that common of a name, maybe she was. He had some work about the oxygen element, manipulating it and different ways it could be used. Alphonse would probably know about it.

Alphonse, sweet, sweet, Al. In love with a foreign girl. What was her name, Chan? Chang? Mei Chang, that was it. She was cute, Ed could admit that. Like doll cute, toddler cute, not in a romantic sense. For him, anyways. She had braids, wrapped up into two small buns atop her head with strands trailing out. He didn’t know much about her.

Edward glanced down at the pot. Oh fuck it was smoking. With a yelp he hurriedly grabbed the pot by its handle and yanked it off the stove.

“Winry it’s burning!” He yelled, waving it around while the other hand fumbled to turn off the burner. She rushed over with a bowl and poured out the apple slices.

“The hell were you?? Stop zoning out while you’re at the stove!” She scolded him, pushing him out of the way and taking the pot from his hands. He chuckled nervously before turning to see the table was already set, with plates of food engulfing the white tablecloth. Winry finishing up the apple filling behind him, adding sugar and spices.

“Just take a seat at the table,” she sighed, taking off her apron and moving to wash her hands. He nodded and wiped his hands off on a cloth. After Winry moved away he stepped up to the sink and washed his hands.

“Thank you,” they all muttered before starting to dish out food. Ed plopped a couple slices of ham onto Al’s plate.

“You need to eat, Al,” he told his brother when the latter tried to push away his arm, “Xingese girls like tall buff guys.”

“Brother, you’ve never  _ met  _ a Xingese girl,” Al protested. Ed shoved a heaping of mashed potatoes onto Al’s plate, keeping it out of his reach.

“They can’t be that different,” he said dismissively. Once Ed was satisfied he handed the plate back to his brother before starting to fill up his own. It wasn’t until Al started to hint to Winry about getting a cat, did Ed realize he should probably be talking to the guest.

“So, uh, Hawkeye,” Ed ran through his mind for topics, “Hawkeye, is your father Berthold Hawkeye?”

Fuck. Shit. She literally just told him that she had daddy issues like ten minutes ago. What the hell, great going,  _ Edward _ ! Hawkeye’s eyebrows twitched and Ed stopped for a moment before scrambling to patch up his mistake.

“Oh, fuck- I shouldn’t have asked you said that- sorry, well anyways how about some potatoes, huh? Winry usually puts-“

“It’s fine,” she cut him off, focusing on cutting up her ham, “Yes, yes he is. Berthold Hawkeye, I mean. The scientist. Though, I assume you already knew about that.”

“Oh,” Ed was at a loss for words, “Uh… you’re going to North City tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, with Rebecca. Rebecca Catalina, she’s in our year. She was on the other relay team that won.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s the girl with the cat eyeliner isn’t she? Said something about staying true to her name?”

Hawkeye smiled slightly, “Yeah, that’s her. I’ve known her since middle school, she’s a bit dramatic at times.”

“I don’t think you’re talking to the right person about what’s dramatic,” Ed snorted. This carrot piece looked like an eyeball. It was unsettling. Oh well, down the hatch. She actually let out a quiet laugh at his comment before nodding her head.

“In our freshman year, Rebecca and I were both on the track team, and East City had a joint training exercise with North City High,” Hawkeye offered, “We’re staying with a friend from that program.”

“Uh… nice. Al, Winry, and I are staying at Teacher’s place. Uh, Ms. Curtis, that is. Al and I trained with her before-”

The doorbell rang. Granny got up to go answer and all of them dropped their conversations to watch the door. It opened to reveal Mr. Hanley, one of the sheep farmers.

“Merry Christmas!” he exclaimed, holding up a basket, “Wanted to give you a little something, considering all the times you’ve helped during the year.”

Granny exchanged a few more words and offered that he stay for dessert. He declined and left soon afterward. She closed to door and set the basket on the counter, peering inside.

“That was very nice of him,” Winry commented. Inside were various fruits, cheeses, and a few small cakes. When the timer dinged in the kitchen, Winry got up to take the pie out of the oven. Ed and Al began to clear the table, bringing all the dirty dishes to the sink. Granny brought out a knife and cut out slices of the pie.

“I fucking love pie,” Ed murmured to himself. Al heard and nodded along. 

The pie was demolished in a matter of minutes, and all that was left was to clean up and head to bed early. Ed felt content. Maybe if he just went to sleep and stayed like that, then he would feel like this forever. Happy, warm, full. 

He climbed into bed and suddenly felt wide awake. What was sleep, anyways? A time capsule? Shutting down and rebooting the mindset? 

Somewhere between debating the effects of not sleeping on the mindset vs. the body, Ed drifted to sleep, staring at Al’s form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has ~daddy issues~ Hawkeye is included. Liked it? Hated it? Let me know, thanks :)


	27. Foreign Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed makes a new 'friend'.

Dreams. Everyone has them. Whether it was dreaming while sleeping (or even nightmares), or aspirations for the future, they were all dreams. It could be as simple as getting through school, or even becoming the president. Edward had dreams, he supposed. Keep Al alive and healthy, keep himself alive and healthy, keep Winry alive and healthy. And maybe keep all three of them happy along the way.

As a result of the Sports Festival, it seemed his radius of dreams had widened. As a result, now he wanted to win. But with that, came anxiety. The first time he had felt victory, it had been when he created a mini volcano with Al. But Hohenheim ignored him, shutting himself in his office and pushing him away. So little Edward tried harder, read books he vaguely comprehended in hopes of impressing his father. Said father left shortly after. 

Another victory came when he and Al discovered how to fend for themselves. The two of them could proudly say they would survive on a deserted island. The feeling of happiness that came with returning home filled to the brim with knowledge and strength lasted for a while, keeping them satisfied as they continued their studies with Mom. Mom fell sick. For the longest time, they didn’t have a clue. She died. 

They were depressed. Him and Al. The Elrics were unofficially diagnosed by Granny. They showed it differently. 

Ed would stare and do nothing for days at a time, disassociating, cut off from the rest of the world. The only thing that seemed to get him up was getting automail, getting back to peak condition and more. He got up for therapy, and then he returned. Staring out the window. 

A l was functional, having escaped without any major injuries. He seemed to have developed some sort of survivor’s guilt, always weighed by the fact he was the only one that had escaped unscathed. Al didn’t laugh for the longest time, only a vague half smile on his face whenever he sat next to Ed and spoke to him.

He was sitting on a hospital cot. Wait, wasn’t he healthy now? Not sick. He felt a strange sense of emptiness, like he was trapped in a hole, falling and falling, the world was quiet as he screamed with no sound. Ed closed his eyes and when he opened them it was day. It was grey outside, clouds covering the sky outside. The trees had lost all their leaves. He felt tired. 

Ed opened his eyes. It was just a dream, nightmare, whatever they were called. The sinking sensation didn’t go away. It was snowing outside. Christmas miracle, huh? This was the second time it had snowed in Resembool, the first had been in the beginning of the month. 

_ Hello darkness, my old friend _ , Ed thought to himself. He thought he was cured, rid of this icky feeling forever. Yet it was back. And apparently he had slight anxiety as well. That was a horrible combination, wasn’t it? Not having the energy to do anything and then worrying about what would happen if he didn’t do anything. 

It wasn’t long before Al woke up as well, a smile on his face.

“Merry Christmas, Al,” Ed forced a smile on his face. His brother glanced out the window and gasped.

“Brother, it’s snowing!” Al turned to him and his smile faltered a bit. Ed nodded and kept the smile on his face. “Let’s go downstairs.”

Ed let Al attach his limbs for him and got up, walking over to his desk. His eyes struggled to focus for a moment on the items before him. Al picked their gifts and placed them in his hands. He left the room and descended the stairs to find Granny and Winry setting down their gifts in the living room. Al padded over to whisper something to Winry, who looked up at Ed. He stood with the small packages in his hand at the foot of the stairs. 

“Merry Christmas,” he smiled. Winry’s managed a small smile and Ed felt chills run up his arm as he sat down. Winry. Winry would love her gift. The smile stayed on his face and handed her the small wrapped package.

“We have to wait for Riza,” she reminded him. Hawkeye. Yes, their guest, that would be polite, as they were the hosts and all. He sat still and waited. A couple minutes later Hawkeye was downstairs with a few small wrapped items. She greeted everyone and then turned to Ed.

“Elric? Are you... alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine, how are you?” he asked. Her brows furrowed. What was wrong with that? He just asked how her morning was… They all began to exchange gifts and quietly tear off the wrapping paper.

Ed looked down at the small package in his hands that Winry had handed him, “It’s from Mustang.”

Mustang? Wasn’t he in Central? It was very neat, not a piece of wrapping paper wasted. Ed picked at the tape for a moment before giving up and just tore the paper. He stared at what was wrapped inside. A white pair of gloves, with a note tucked in between.

‘ _ Figured this might be more comfortable -the Pyromaniac _ ’ the note read. He smiled at the gift. Winry then handed him something else.

“Al and I both got you a jacket, it matches with those stupid leather pants you wear. It covers the arm,” she explained as he picked at the tape. It was black with white lining the edges. It didn’t have buttons or zippers, just a clasp at the neck. Easy to do up with one hand. They did fit the gloves nicely.

“Thank you,” he said to Winry and Al, who both exchanged a look before nodding. He watched WInry open his and Al’s gift next. A set of notebook and pens. She had mentioned that her notes book for automail was getting full, and Winry could never get enough glittery pens. The two of them had decorated the front cover ridiculously, glueing on memorable photos and various stickers. They had gotten it in East City, Winry always complained about lined notebooks, how the blue always blended into her preferred blue ink. It had black lines, 7.1 millimeters apart, and the backs of the pages were blank, perfect for sketching, or even just taking more notes. For Winry.

“Oh! I needed a new notebook! Thank you, guys!” she exclaimed. 

When they had finished exchanging gifts, they tucked them all away and Al started breakfast. The three of them had a train at 11. Hawkeye had one at 12:30. Ed blinked rapidly for a moment before stumbling forward and catching himself on a chair. Al turned around and his frown deepened.

“Brother, are you alright?”

“I’m… fine?” Ed’s response sounded more like a question. To be honest, he wasn’t quite sure himself. His head felt like an unopened water bottle, fill to the brim but unable to slosh around. It felt like he was unfeeling before, absent. Now, a million things were rushing into his head. He felt hungry, confused, happy, and cold. He was dressed in a tank top. Ed glanced around and spotted the jacket Al and Winry had given him sitting on the couch. Didn’t he put everything away?

Either way, he pulled it on and clasped it shut. It fit snugly, yet still allowed his arms to flail around if needed. They were right, it  _ would _ fit perfectly with his pants. The gloves from Mustang were sitting on the couch underneath the jacket. He picked them up. They were smooth, not like winter gloves. They reminded him of the rich posh elites from the big city, wearing white gloves with their fancy ass suits.

The image of Mustang in a suit flashed through his mind. City boy Mustang. He felt a light blush rise to his cheeks and shook off the thought. 

* * *

“AaaaAAAAaaaAAAaaAA,” Ed “aaaaa”d. Winry groaned and kicked him.

“Shut the fuck up, Ed, there’s only like 15 more minutes,” she kicked him again. He scowled before shutting up and picking at his gloves. A thought struck him, how did Mustang know how big his hands were? Whatever, he rolled his head back and whined.

“How much longer?? I gotta pee,” he complained, Al rolled his eyes.

“Just go to the bathroom on the train.”

“Hell no, those are disgusting.”

“Then shut the fuck up, Ed!” Winry basically yelled at him. He slouched and pouted, 10 more minutes. Winry’s foul mood all but disappeared when they saw the outskirts of Rush Valley. She was nearly jumping out of her seat, sticking her head out the train window.

“Winry you’re about to fall out of the fucking train!” Ed grabbed her arm and tugged her head back in.

“It’s Rush Valley, Ed! Originator of Automail! The Holy Land of Prosthetics! Even Granny has trained here! Oh, how I would love to get an apprenticeship here!” she gushed, eyes lighting up at just the thought. 

“And leave us behind? You would never,” Ed teased.

“Keep going like that and I just might,” she responded, “Besides, it would only last a couple months, plus I could make better automail for you!” 

She skipped off the train as soon as the doors opened, leaving Ed and Al scrambling to get up behind. Rush Valley was warm, possibly even warmer than Dublith. The streets were crowded and bustling, even on Christmas Day, the shops were still up and operating. Winry was nearly about to blast off if Al didn’t latch onto her arm. 

“Holy shit!” she yelled, “Al, can you believe it??”

Ed ran into the bathroom, assuming that the other two would stay put, but when he returned, both Winry and Al had disappeared, “Fuck! Winry? Al?! Where the fuck did you go??” 

Alas, everybody in Rush Valley seemed to be either freakishly tall, or ridiculously buff, so trying to look over their heads was a useless action. When he finally found Winry, she was basically pressed against a window, drooling over something in the display case. She was babbling to herself happily when Ed approached her.

“Win, hey, Winry. Al’s missing and I don’t know where he went,” he shook her shoulder. She gave a last longing look at the arm laying in the window before unsticking herself and following after Ed. Turns out, Al wasn’t too far, just a couple steps away from Winry but tucked away in an alleyway.

“Al! There you are! Did you find a stray cat or something?”

“Uh,” Al hesitated for a moment, it terrified Ed. “Something along the lines of that.”

He shifted to the side to reveal a boy sprawled across the ground. The boy had dark black hair tied back in a ponytail. He was wearing a yellow jacket with white patterns on it, and loose white pants. 

“Um… not our problem, Al. Winry, what’d you want to do?” he turned away and Al let out a strangled noise.

“Brother! We can’t just leave him here!’

“Well, if you stay nearby I could just go on my own, you guys could get lunch, and I’ll be able to shop!” Winry proposed. Al quickly agreed, much to Ed’s dismay.

“What if you get lost? What if this guy robs us? What if-”

“Have fun!” Winry sang before leaving the alleyway. Ed scowled and let out a loud sigh before turning to Al who watched him with hopeful eyes. He huffed and nodded, gesturing for Al to pick up the boy? Man? Guy?

“Let’s just get this over with and get lunch,” he grumbled. There was a restaurant across the street, and Al gently set down the other boy, who stirred slightly. His eyes were glazed over, and he had a streak of dirt across his cheek. Ed noticed with a slight blush that his jacket hung open and he wore no shirt underneath. His chest was muscular, and his face angular, with a strong jaw. His skin was a different tone than regular Amestrian’s, he and Al had found out he was tanner than most. Maybe Xingese? His eyes were narrower, like Mr. Wan’s. The Xingese boy was attractive- no doubt about it, gay? Most likely not.

Al requested for a couple of sandwiches and when they were brought out, he put it on a plate and pushed it toward the other boy. The Xingese boy blinked before reaching out and biting down on a corner of the sandwich. Ed watched his lips intently and blushed when Al nudged him. 

Soon the boy was functioning again, and was eating. And eating. And eating.

“Holy shit,” Al muttered to Ed, “This guy eats more than you do.”

“Shut up,” he whispered back. The boy wiped his mouth with a napkin and turned to the brothers with a bright grin.  _ Holy shit he’s cute _ , Ed thought to himself. 

“Thank you, you’ve saved me! It is nice to know there are still kind people in foreign lands,” he said with a slight accent, “I am Ling Yao, and you are?”

“Edward and Alphonse Elric,” Ed told him before leaning back and crossing his arms, examining the figure in front of him. Or checking out, whatever. “Are you Xingese?”

“Ah, yes! I am from the country of Xing,” he grinned. Ed uncrossed his arms.

“Wait, really? Do you know anything about Xing’s medical science? I’ve heard rumors about it but I’ve never met anyone that’s actually known about it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m in Amestris for! Wait, this is Amestris, right? I’ve been traveling for nearly a month in the desert!”

“Yeah, wait, a month? Why didn’t you just go South and take a boat through Aerugo? That only would’ve taken two weeks.”

“I wanted to see the ruin of Xerxes, a lot of technology originated there, you know!”

“Speaking of, you were saying something about Xing’s medical science? The furthest we’ve gone is just replacing tissue, killing it and then making more, but all experiments have failed,” Al’s eyes lit up as he leaned forward.

“Oh that’s quite different from what we’ve been trying to develop. In Xing, instead of destroying and reconstructing, we try and enforce. Say, if you had this table, I think you would break this and just replace it with a new one. We would try and repair it instead.”

“Holy shit! Do you know the finer details? Like-”

“Nope!” the boy, “Ling”, replied. Wait the fuck up, what?? “I’m not a scientist, yet I’m in this country to learn about the science here, ironic, huh?” 

“Oh come on!” Ed complained, “Well, see you, we’ve got to find Winry. The train for Dublith leaves in an hour.”

He pushed the seat back and got up to leave. 

“Dublith, you say? Well, I’ll come with you!”

“What? Hell no! We don’t even know who you are! Fuck off,” Ed scowled, “Al, come on.”

“No you don’t, you haven’t paid yet,” the owner of the restaurant appeared with the bill. He raised an eyebrow at the three of them. “Well?”

“Oh, very sorry, my Amestrian is no very good!’ Ling apologized, before running off. Excuse me? That fucking- 

“What? You fucking asshole! You were the one eating everything!” Ed yelled. He was about to run off after him when Al stuck out his arm to grab the collar of his jacket. His brother quickly apologized to the owner and pulled out his wallet to pay.

“Why’d you do that, Al??”

“He just came from a foreign country, he’s probably broke, Brother.”

“Al, you are far too kind for your own good.”

Still, that Ling Yao guy was a fucking asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've introduced a new character. At first I kind of hated Ling Yao but as I watched more of FMA:B I kind of ended up loving him... well anyways, like it? Hated it? Let me know, thanks :)


	28. Stalker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed's stalker turns out to be kind of important.

Winry was sitting in the middle of a park, chatting happily with a dark skinned girl. Her long black hair was in a short ponytail and she was wearing a black tank top with a pair of camo pants tucked into boots. The park was in the outskirts of town, and empty save for the two of them. Everyone else was either at home or in the main street of the city. Who visits parks anyways? 

She was laughing when he approached the pair of them.

“Winry, we got you some food,” he called out. She broke off her conversation and looked up at him and Al.

“Oh hey! This is Paninya, I found her when shopping and now we’re out here,” she beamed. At her side lay three shopping bags, no doubt filled to the brim with various pieces and parts. The girl grinned and waved. Al waved back. 

“Hey!”

“Paninya, this is Ed and Al, the friends I told you about. Wait, what happened to that guy you found?”

“He ditched us when he learned that he had to pay the bill, the jackass.”

“Oh… well I guess we have to go, train’s in like 15 minutes, see you tomorrow, Paninya!” Winry gathered her bags and handed two of them to Ed, who exchanged them for the food, and fuck, yep! They weighed more than Winry’s entire body weight, he was pretty sure. How the fuck was she carrying one herself? No, now Al was holding the other bag. How did she even carry all three of them to the bench??

“‘See you tomorrow’?” Al questioned.

“Oh yeah! I forgot to say, Paninya’s on the South City track team! She said it’s totally fine for outsiders to watch their practice!”

“Oh, cool,” Ed watched the other girl run off. She was much better than Ling Yao. But Ling Yao was hotter… this was a hard choice. Maybe Ling Yao had soft hair. Though he didn’t know much about science, Ling Yao  _ did  _ seem interested in it, that was a plus. He was willing to cross a desert for it, that had to count for something, right?

“What’s up with Ed?” Winry asked as she bit into a sandwich. 

“He’s probably comparing how hot Ling Yao is to Paninya.”   
  
“Shut up, Al. Just because you can read minds doesn’t mean you should do it,” Ed snapped. But he didn’t deny it. Winry laughed and finished off the sandwich. They stood around the station for a while, just doing nothing while waiting for the train. 

The train from Rush Valley to Dublith was only around 15 minutes total, and soon they were all standing in front of ‘CURTIS MEATS’. The door jingled as they pushed it open.

“Hello, welcome to Curtis- oh hey Ed, Al!” Mason waved from behind the counter, “It’s been a while, huh? What, seven years, now? It’s great to see you!”

“Hey, Mr. Mason,” Al greeted. 

“You’ve both grown. Oh, and who’s the lady?”

“Hi, I’m Winry Rockbell, Ed and Al live with my Granny and I,” Winry introduced herself. Mason showed them upstairs to the guest room, where they just dumped their stuff on the bed.

“So there’s three buses to and from South City a day, One at 10, one at 2, and one at 6,” Mason told them. Ed would throw Winry out of the room if she dared wake him up for the 10 train. It’s still winter break, damn it.

“Oh yeah, Sig gave me a list of questions to ask you,” Ed dug out a piece of paper, “Number one: how much are you charging for 6.2 pounds of beef?”

“There’s a 20% discount if they order 6.2,” he replied.

“Uh… good enough, Sig wants a photo of the front case thing, and a photo of all the knives lined up from largest to smallest. Another one: how many times does Riley come in a week asking for Teacher?”

“Three.” 

“Right, last question: have you been selling anything to Mr. Hart?”

Mason let out a bark of laughter before shaking his head, “No, he’s banned from the store. He has tried, though. Al, help me take some pictures for Sig and Ms. Izumi, the camera’s upstairs.

* * *

After helping with and having dinner, Ed walked up the stairs and stared at the photos lining the walls. Most of them were of Sig, Teacher, and Mason, but at the very top, a small square frame held a photo. 

It was him, Al, and Teacher. She had her arms around both boys’ shoulders, and was stooping down to their height. Al’s eyes were wide and happy while he laughed and Ed’s were squeezed shut as he grinned. Back when the two of them were only marginally fucked up.

Mustang lives alone, doesn’t he? Must be depressing. Would he keep photos of his family around? He would probably put photos of himself on his walls to keep himself company. Self-centered egotistical big headed bastard.

Winry entered the guest bedroom first and let out a muffled squeak. Oh fuck had someone broken in? Ed's hands curled on instinct and leapt past the remaining stairs, kicking the door to the side and jumping in front of Winry.  


“What’s wrong? Is someone here- it’s you. You fucking  _ asshole! _ ” Ed kept his hands up as he growled at the smiling boy in front of him. “How the fuck did you get here? How the fuck did you get in?”

“Through the window,” the boy seemed nonchalant as he pointed behind him to the open window, a slight breeze ruffling the curtains. Al moved to push Winry behind him. “I followed you, of course.”

“Fucking- get out! And stop following us, you creep!” Ed moved forward and noted with a slight bristle that this guy was taller than him. Maybe taller than Mustang? He moved forward and elbowed his chest. 

“Hey! Hey, I just want to talk,” Ling Yao didn’t object to being shoved though. Ed forced him through the window and slammed it shut, flipping the latch to lock it. He stuck up his middle finger and mouthed ‘fuck off’ while drawing the curtains closed. After a moment of scowling at the curtains he turned back to Al,who finally dropped his hands, and Winry, who looked a bit shaken.

Mason poked his head through the door, “Hey, is everything okay? I thought I heard Ed yelling.”

“Oh, you know Ed,” Winry laughed nervously, “When is he  _ not _ yelling?”

It was only after he left did Winry let out the breath she was holding and sit down on a bed. “What the fuck does that guy want?”

“I have no fucking clue,” Ed confessed, “He’s from Xing and came to Amestris to study science or some shit like that, we fed him and then he dipped, we don’t know much else.”

“I’m still outside, you know! And if you wanted, you could just ask!” The fucking asshole yelled from outside.

“FUCK OFF!” Ed yelled at the window. The sound of feet against tiles quickly disappeared and Ed rubbed his eye with his hand. Great, now they have a stalker.

When he left the house the next morning with Al, Winry stayed behind to help Mason with the store and to fiddle with everything she bought, Ed could feel someone following him. Al could tell too, by the way his eyes kept darting around and the way he shifted every few seconds.

“We’d be able to see them if they followed us into the train right? And if they get on a different car, they wouldn’t see where we got off… right?” Al muttered to Ed. Or maybe to himself, Ed couldn’t tell.

But then they realized Ling Yao had no intention of hiding the fact that he was following them. When Ed and Al had gotten on the train, he simply just sat next to Ed on the train. Uncomfortably close, and that was saying something, considering Ed’s gay ass.

“The fuck-“ Ed swore when Ling popped up next to him, “Where the fuck did you come from? And we told you to stop following us, nitwit!”

There was a sharp whoosh of air and a dagger appeared inches away from his face, embedding itself in the frame of the window. He and Al both had similar expressions of shock. He whipped his to the side to see a someone with a mask covering the lower half of their face slowly sink out, glaring daggers (too soon? Maybe) at Ed. Wait no, not sink out, sink… up? Holy shit they were on the roof of the train. He panicked for a moment before picking up the knife and narrowing his eyes at the Xingese boy.

“I suggest you keep your insults to yourself, Lan Fan doesn’t take too kindly to those,” he said, as if this was a normal occurrence to him.

“Lan Fan.. like- like a fucking bodyguard??” Ed hissed. The other boy shrugged unhelpfully. “Who the fuck are you?!”

“Glad you asked!” Ling said with a wide grin, “I am Prince Ling Yao of Xing, the 12th son of the emperor.”

“A prince?” Al squawked, a second before he and Al both burst out in laughter.

“You-“ Ed gasped, tears coming to his eyes, “You’re a prince?”

“Is it that hard to believe?” the asshole, wait no, the  _ prince  _ complained. This was a fucking prince?? Of a country?!  _ Anybody _ would’ve been more princely than this guy. Mustang seemed to act like one, hell, even Hawkeye was more likely to be one! And she wasn’t even a guy! Not like it would stop her but-

“You’ve got to be joking.”

Another dagger flew out of nowhere and skimmed his cheek as Ed jerked his head back and turned, he raised his hand to his cheek to find that it had drawn blood,

“Brother!” Al cried, suddenly all the mirth had disappeared from his brother, “Shit, fuck- are you okay?”

He hissed slightly as he touched the cut. It wasn’t very deep, but it was a bit longer than his eye. Ling frowned as he fished a handkerchief.

“Tone it down, Lan Fan, that was a bit too far,” he called out.

“Sorry, young lord,” a quiet voice responded. Ed yanked the handkerchief out of his hand and dabbed at the cut.

“Who the fuck carries these around anymore??” He hissed, glaring at the dark haired boy, who looked a bit sorry as he stared at Ed’s cheek. Only pretentious bastards like Mustang carried fucking  _ handkerchiefs _ around. “Just fucking leave us alone.”

“Sorry about that,” he apologized. He didn’t move. 

“Maybe we should postpone until tomorrow,” Al suggested. Ed shook his head.

“No, the sooner we’re done with this the sooner we can go home,” Ed pulled away the handkerchief to see that the bleeding had mostly stopped. He glanced down at the white gloves and grimaced. Not even one day and they were already stained with blood. Ed hoped the gloves would be stain resistant. 

“Where do you live, anyways?” Ling wondered aloud. Ed scowled and ignored him.  _ We might have to fight him and his insane bodyguard _ , he thought. He pulled the other dagger out and stuffed it into his pocket. He used his ~Elric telepathy~ to convey the message to Al, who nodded. Holy shit did that actually work.

“You won’t be able to win against Lan Fan,” Ling commented. Is this guy some mind reader??

“You’d be surprised,” Ed muttered with a glare. The Xingese asshole finally untucked himself from Ed’s side and slid down the the end of the bench. The train stopped. South City, fun. 

Ed and Al stepped off the train and was immediately lost. The school had to be somewhere nearby… right? Ling must’ve noticed their confusion.

“Where are you guys going?”

“Fuck.. you’re going to follow us either way, aren’t you? South City High School,” Ed grumbled. Ling turned around to shout at the sky.

“Hey, Lan Fan? Can you get us to ‘South City High School’?” he called. There was a black blur and all of a sudden a boy dressed completely in black materialized at Ling’s side, glaring at Ed, who glared straight back. He took his place at the front of the trio and started to stalk off. 

The school was actually just around the corner, and it looked a lot… newer? Modern? 

Maybe 15 years ago, there was a war in the East, and as a result East City lost a lot of money and some buildings that were damaged could quite get the repairs they needed. But… rumors of war with the West and the South were brewing… so maybe that wouldn’t last. 

“Alright, track is normally behind the school, right? Or is that the track to the right?” Ed muttered to himself.

“To the left, actually,” Ling butted in. Why was he with them again...? Ed flipped him off and stomped off when the bodyguard brandished another dagger threateningly. 

The teams were good, but that was to be expected if they made it to the Central tournament. He was fairly sure their relay team was superior, but they had a  _ really _ good tennis team. Ling Yao was still tailing them, being a pain in the ass, and when they returned, Ed slammed the door and yelled at him. Mason was slightly perturbed.

“Ed!” Winry greeted, “Is the weird guy still following you? Holy shit what happened to your cheek??”

“The weird guy is a prince, he has bodyguards that cut anyone who speaks bad about him,” he spat. 

“So while you were gone I figured you’d need some sort of protection, right? So I made this! It’s a blade,” she held out a piece of sharp metal and he disconnected his arm to hand it to her. “So this is going to go on the back of your hand, and I’m going to put a small switch on the side that you can press so this pops out, okay?”

“What happened to your arm??” Mason exclaimed. Ed froze in place. Oh shit Mason didn’t know… heh.

“Uh… well our mom’s dead, Al’s scarred, and I’m crippled,” Ed offered as an explanation. If Mason just kicked them out now, Ed wouldn’t blame him. He watched the older man blink for a couple seconds before rubbing a hand down his face.

“I don’t know anything about you boys, do I? Just… Ed, Al, close down the shop, Winry, help me with dinner.”

Ed left Al to wipe down the counters and clean up the back while Ed went toward the front of the shop. A figure moved to his right as the door jingled shut.

“Holy shit!” Ed jumped and raised an arm in front of him to defend himself. Ling Yao held up both hands in surrender, a book held in his right hand. “The fuck are you doing here? If you want to study science or whatever shit just go to the library. Leave me alone!”

“Hi, Edward! I did go to the library!” he said cheerfully, waving the book in his hand around, “I couldn’t understand most of the terms, though, so I just got an introduction to basics. I snuck out without Lan Fan, I think she’s still there.”

“She..? Oh that crazy ninja dude is a chick? Well, if she’s your bodyguard, then  _ maybe stay with her _ . And you know, not stalk me all day? Unlike you I actually have stuff to do,” Ed reached up to flip over the ‘OPEN’ sign around to ‘CLOSED’. 

“I was hoping you could help me!”

“And why the fuck would I do that?”

“Out of the kindness of your heart, of course.”

“What heart?” he snorted before opening the door once more. Before Ed could blink the stupid boy had darted into the shop, calling after Al.

“You- get back here! You’re not allowed! Come back during business hours,” Ed yelled, scrambling to catch him.

“Alphonse? It’s me, Ling Yao, do you remember me? I was hoping you could-”

“Who the fuck are you? Ed, do you know this boy?” Mason was holding a kitchen knife in his hand and an apron was wrapped around his chest. 

“No! He’s been following Al and I! Please get him to stop!” 

Mason’s brow furrowed and he held up the knife. Ling backed up a couple steps and held his hands up again.

“You are not welcome here, please stop following Ed and Al. If you are here for meat, the store is not open, as indicated by the sign outside, and barging in regardless could warrant being arrested under trespassing charges.”

“Uh… sorry, bye!” Ling sped out of the shop, and the door swung shut slowly, the bell jingling cheerfully. Mason dropped the knife and rubbed the back of his head, staring out the window.

“Did I overdo it?”

“No! Thank you so much, he wouldn’t leave us alone!” Al exclaimed. Ed frowned as he pulled on a string, lowering the shades on the window. Ling was nowhere in sight.

“Has he been bothering you for a while?”

“No, we met him yesterday. Hope he doesn’t follow us back to Resembool, though.”   
  


“Couldn’t you just call the police?”

“No, he has this crazy assassin ninja bodyguard following him everywhere, that’s where I got this from,” Ed pointed to the horizontal scab across his cheek. Mason pursed his lips for a moment before nodding his head to the side.

“Come on, we’re nearly done with dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Ling sucks. I kind of want to speed up the story but that would involve heavily editing the past ones and I don't want to so... well, did you like it? Hate it? Feedback is very much appreciated. Thanks :)


	29. (Almost) Murder in Rush Valley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed nearly gets killed and Mustang delivers news.

Winry had to be a fortune teller. The trio had spent another two days in Dublin and South City, Mason’s threats keeping the prince and his entourage at bay, and then decided to spend another at Rush Valley. Where, when Ed tried to attack the fucking asshole, his bodyguard and another old guy leapt out of nowhere and started to try and kill Ed and Al. The blade attachment to his automail was suddenly very appealing.

He tugged his gloves off and tucked them into his pocket with one swift movement, pushing in the switch with a small click and dodging a roundhouse kick. The blade popped out with a swish and the girl narrowly avoided being stabbed in the face. Whoops.

She was running now that he had a knife, and Ed pulled out the two dagger things she had thrown at him a couple days before. He sent them, one after another. The bodyguard caught the first with her right hand but the other whizzed past her as she had no choice but to dodge. 

Oh fuck, Winry and Al were still- oh now the knife was flying back at him. He tore a pipe off the side of a building with his automail and began to use it as a spear. It was simple using spears, just stab and retreat. The sharp attachment to his automail was more like a dagger and a sword combined, block, block, parry.

They were nearing the mountain range on the outskirts of the city, barely anybody around. Ed growled as a knife cut the side of his thigh, tearing open his pants. The cut stung as he felt liquid slid down his leg. He watched as the girl pulled something out of her pocket and light it with a quick flick. A fucking grenade??

“The fuck are you-” Ed fumbled at his shoulder as the small device went off with a bang. Screw it, with a strained scream, he tore off the arm completely and leapt out of the way of falling debris, a sharp edge nicking a spot above his eyebrow.

His racing heart thundered against his chest as he tumbled off the side of the building, falling from the roof. Ed rolled as he hit the ground with a thud and ignored the jolts of pain coming from what was left of his arm. He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the task ahead of him. Climb up the wall, use windows as footholds, upper body strength. 

Ed snagged the fallen spear he had ripped out and a piece of rope from the debris, tying it as a large slipknot around the pole. The bait was set, and now for a trap. He took a breath and forced himself to lie low among the chunks of earth sitting atop the building. Was her name Lan Fan? Lan Fan slowly picked her way through the rocks, eyes filled with sorrow as she took in the lone arm reaching out of the rubble.

“Perhaps that was a bit too much,” she muttered solemnly before reaching out to grab the arm. Ed pulled. A noose wrapped around her body and pulled tight as she struggled. A perfect catch. He limped out from behind the debris and plucked up his arm. He grimaced. Winry was going to be fucking pissed.

“No shit, what were you thinking, setting off a bomb in a city?” Ed snapped. He closed his eyes for a moment, a headache threatening to split his skull, and then reopened them to take in the sight before him, the girl was bound in a dirty rope, sweat and dust coating her skin as she glared at him. “I used to chase a lot of rabbits and stuff as a kid, setting the trap for you wasn’t much work.”

“Fuck you,” she hissed, looking away from him. He let out a sigh before surveying the area. A large chunk of the mountain has tumbled onto the building and spilled onto the streets alone. Somehow, the roof itself was mostly undamaged, though it wouldn’t be good to leave the rock here for long. 

When he returned to the heart of Rush Valley, it was with a struggling girl under one arm and a face caked with blood, sweat, and dirt. He felt very dizzy and clammy, hand sweaty and cold. He was pleased to find Al had the old guy bound and Winry was threatening the prince.

“Holy fuck, Ed are you okay?!” Winry cried as he dumped the body on the ground, “YOUR FUCKING ARM!”

“S-sorry, Winry,” he winced as her hands came up to touch the cut above his left eyebrow. It seemed like Winry was on the brink of crying, between the fact Ed was looking very beaten up and the fact that his arm was literally ripped in half. She cradled the useless arm before something went through her head. Winry looked up abruptly and Ed swallowed, mouth dry. His heart was beating quickly, way too quickly.

“Al! Next train to East City, we have to go!” she screamed, ducking under Ed’s other arm to support his body as he fell sideways. The bodyguards were forgotten as Ed passed out.

When he came to, he was lying on a bed.

“Am I dying?” He asked Winry, who had tear tracks running down her face. Her cheeks were red and she immediately shoved a bottle of water at him.

“What were you think ripping off your own arm?? Not only do Granny and I have to rebuild it from scratch, but you nearly went into shock!” She sounded slightly hysterical. Al helped Ed get up and he spotted the two separate pieces of his arm sticking out of a bag.

“S-sorry, but I’m fine now, right?”

Winry whacked his head, “You’re so fucking lucky, you know that?!”

Now conscious and not lacking any blood, Ed glanced around. Where was he? It wasn’t Dublith or Resembool, and definitely not a hotel or a hospital. Maybe he was still in Rush Valley? No, he’s seen those curtains before. But where..?

“We’re in East City, Teacher’s place,” Al answered his questioning look. Ed nodded and closed his eyes, letting his head hang back. Can people please  _ stop  _ trying to kill him? “We don’t know what happened to those ninja guys but Mr. Mason paid off most of the property damage.”

Ed grimaced at the thought, “But I barely destroyed anything! Just wrecked a cliff...”

His eyes opened in time to see Al give a nervous chuckle before scratching his jaw, “Yeah, um, some of that might’ve been from me.”

Winry left the room to inform Teacher that Ed was up and running. The two of them returned and Teacher flared at Ed.

“You idiot, tearing off your arm?” She muttered. “I’m glad you’re not that hurt and all, but still. Did you at least win?”

“Technically, yes, but Al said they have no clue where they went.”

She sighed and rubbed at her face. Mason seemed to have picked it up from her. She sat down on the edge of the bed to give Ed a hug before starting to question him about who was after him.

“A stalker Xingese prince, long black hair in a pony, squinty eyes, yellow jacket with white design, open with no shirt, a strap underneath probably for a sword, and long baggy white pants. Also freakishly tall, like… taller than you tall.” he quickly rattled off, she quirked an eyebrow, “Said prince’s bodyguard #1, long black hair pulled back, black mask covering nose and mouth, dark brown eyes, entire body is clothes in black with a bunch of unnoticeable pockets with like a million weapons. Shorter than… Mustang.”

Oh shit Mustang. His gloves were most definitely ruined now. He turned to Al for his description of the last guy, “Similarly dressed, entirely in black and mask. Grey hair, white headband, grey mustache, I think, constant angry brows, and shorter than Ed.”

“Then he must be  _ short _ ,” Teacher commented. She ignored Ed’s glare.

“Can… can we go home?” Al asked. Teacher had her thinking look on, eyes vacant, lips in a thin line, and eyebrows slightly furrowed, before nodding.

“You should be fine, they couldn't have followed you here. Be careful if they somehow get to East City,” she advised. “It’s nearly 4, you better start heading out if you want to get to the train.”

Teacher let out a sigh and crossed her arms when the three of them left, Winry berating Ed.

“We have like a week and a half until school starts, Granny and I should be able to be done by then, but you fucking moron! Why would you rip off your own arm?! You could’ve died from that, dumbass!” she yelled, shoving Ed’s shoulder. He stumbled forward, thrown out of balance, and then grimaced, apologizing over and over again.

“Apology accepted but not really! Never do that again, got it??” Winry demanded, Ed nodded quickly. Al just pursed his lips and rolled his eyes.

* * *

“I have bad news,” Mustang announced. Ed looked up from the book Mustang had given him, it was his second read through. “The tournament might be cancelled.”

“What??” Jean leapt up with a cry of outrage, “They can’t fucking do that! We’ve been training for months-”

“There’s a serial killer in Central,” Mustang interrupted. Jean’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape and he sat back down. Hawkeye’s eyebrows furrowed and Ed stuck a pen into the book to mark his page. Mustang quietly handed him a bookmark and he switched it out quickly, a flush creeping up his neck at the small brush of their fingers. He did seem to be on Ed’s mind quite a lot lately. “Several incidents since the beginning of December, ‘Barry the Chopper’.”

“Oh shit. Yeah maybe it’s for the best they cancel it,” Jean paled. Ed nodded and shivered, pulling the red cape over his shoulders. Why the fuck were they sitting outside in the snow? Because Havoc is a fucking idiot, that’s why. Their breaths were coming out in puffs and cheeks rosy. First day back in school.

Ed thought back to his first day back in September. Not the best of first days. Perhaps the start of the second semester would be better? Schedules were changed and classes shifted around. Ed’s was mostly the same, but his Literature and Drama blocks had been switched.

When he walked into the Literature class, same teacher, different block, he swore loudly and dropped the water bottle he was holding.

“What the fuck are you doing here??”

The bottle cracked open and water spilled across the doorway. Fucking cheap plastic.

Ling Yao grinned at him cheekily and responded brightly, “I'm a foreign exchange student!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might do something in Central, wink wink, but I'm not sure if I want to keep this story going on. At most, there will be like... 10 more chapters? Idk, let me know if you liked this chapter, hated it, or whatever in between. Thanks :)


	30. Truth or Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed tried to distance himself from Ling (to no avail) and plays truth or dare.

“Fucking  _ what? _ ” He hissed. Ed was frozen in place, hand still up.

“I’m a foreign exchange student, Edward, I’m glad I found a friend among these strange Amestrians!” Ling put his head in his palm and smiled at him. The damn boy was so pretty yet so irritating. Ed stared at him incredulously. 

“Ms. Ford, how do I change my schedule?” he asked loudly. The teacher glanced up at the mention of her name and adjusted her glasses.

“After school go to the main office and ask the secretary, Edward,” she responded. He picked up the cracked bottle and nodded stiffly before placing himself in a seat at the back of the classroom, away from Ling. Ed stared at the back of his head. He seemed to always keep his hair in side bangs and a ponytail. He changed his outfit though, to fit in more. Now he was wearing a white hoodie and a pair of jeans. It was very different from what Ed had last seen him in, yet it sort of… suited the boy. 

He glanced down when Ling turned around. The bell rang and Ed pulled out his notebook. Where was his essay…? There it was, under Mauro’s book. With Mustang’s bookmark, decorated with small cats. Dork. The pages were slightly crumpled and his handwriting was barely legible but it got the point across… somewhat.

“Elric?” Hawkeye asked. He looked up to see her at the door just as the bell rang. She took a step and slid forward on Ed’s water. Oh yeah, that. She caught a desk and it let out a loud screech as it was pushed back. Everyone stared at her and she apologized with a tinge of pink at the tip of her ears. Hawkeye quickly righted the desk and took a seat next to Ed as the bell rang.

“Sorry, that was my water,” he muttered quietly as the teacher got up to start class. Hawkeye squinted at him.

“And you just left it there?”

“I was preoccupied.”

_ Fuck _ Ling Yao.

* * *

“I understood nothing about Biology but it was fun to dissect a frog!” Ling chattered happily beside Ed. He wanted earplugs. 

“How did you get into the advanced program again? At an advanced school? In the middle of the year??” Ed nearly screamed. He shrugged and leaned against Ed’s head, placing an arm around his shoulder. 

“When you have a genius for a bodyguard, nothing is impossible, you’ll learn that soon enough,” he sighed. Ling reached up with his hand to twirl Ed’s bangs around with his finger. Ed felt invaded. Disturbed. Robbed of his… personal space? Yeah, that. 

“Hey… Elric. We have to head to the train station…” Mustang shifted uncomfortably, “You also look like you’re about to rip out his voice box, so maybe it’s best we head out?”

“Yeah. Get off me, asshole,” Ed ducked and sidestepped Ling, who suddenly fell sideways at the lack of support. He left without a goodbye, trusting Mustang to follow after him.

“So… who was that?” Mustang asked casually, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Ed waved Al and Winry over.

“Ling Yao, he’s kind of been stalking me since Christmas,” he saw Mustang do a double take.

“Is that why Rockbell was making you a new arm?!” Mustang exclaimed, turning so now that he was facing Ed while he walked.

“How’d you get that from ‘he’s stalking me’?” He glanced to the side before crossing the street. “But yeah, he’s mostly the reason why.”

“Do you want me to get him to back off?”

“Are you talking about Ling Yao?” Al butted in, now caught up with them.

“Ed thinks he’s hot,” Winry said. Ed sputtered for a moment before turning around to protest.

“What?! I do not!” He exclaimed. A step to the side had him avoiding a trash can but also bumping against Mustang’s arm.

“Oh you totally do, look at that blush!” Jean cooed. Ed scowled and took out his hand to flip the blond off. Wait. All of them were blond except for Mustang.

“You’re the only one that’s not blond,” Ed voiced his thoughts. “Holy shit, you’re the only one that’s not blond! How did I not realize this?”

“Don’t try and change the subject, Ed!” Winry sang before hooking her arm around his. “I think the Elrics have a thing for foreigners.”

“Elrics, plural?” Hawkeye questioned. Winry nodded, eager to give more details and to have an excuse to talk about Ed’s love life.

“Yeah! Al has the biggest crush on this tiny little Xingese girl, she transferred in like November, and Ed is practically drooling over Ling Yao’s body.”

“Winry, shut the fuck up, I am not.”

“Oh my god, Brother, we totally do.”

“I’m half Xingese!” Mustang blurted out. Hawkeye gave him a look and his cheeks tinted pink. Alright, that was kind of weird.

“You are?” Ed tilted his head. He could see kind of see it, in the black hair and eyes.

“Uh, yeah. On my mother’s side,” he replied. Hm. Interesting.

“Heh, Al’s taking Xingese and just realized that the school’s standards suck and that he needs way more work to impress a Xingese girl,” Ed snorted. Al blushed at the mention. Hawkeye elbowed Mustang out of nowhere. Supposedly, out of nowhere. The two of them were acting incredibly shifty. 

“Do we have time to get something to eat? I’m starving,” Ed whined. Hawkeye coughed.

“Why, am I not enough for you?” Mustang winked. Fucking bastard, hasn’t he gotten another girlfriend yet? Winry started giggling and nudging Ed, who involuntarily blushed.

“How many times do I have to tell you. Please, shut the fuck up,” he moaned in embarrassment. Al snorted and spoke up.

“Ooh, he never says please! Keep going!” He encouraged. Ed boarded the train and pointedly sat as far away from Al as possible. It wasn’t that good of a decision because then he got the window seat, a plus, but then Winry was across from him and Mustang was at his side.

With a loud sigh, Mustang rested his head on Ed’s shoulder, fitting snugly in the space between his jaw and his shoulder. He couldn’t really do much, trapped between a body and a wall.

“Sometimes I wonder if my love is unrequited,” Mustang moaned pitifully. On his other side Jean patted his shoulder awkwardly. Ed could feel a blush creeping up his neck again, that seemed to happen a lot these days, didn’t it? Winry was about to explode.

“I assure you, it is,” he drawled instead. He felt Mustang’s jaw shift as his lips formed a pout. Ed relaxed a bit and tilted his head to rest on Mustang’s, staring at Winry. She smiled and he gave her a disgruntled look as he smushed his cheek against Mustang’s hair.

That position couldn’t possibly be comfortable. Mustang was like… a head taller than him and his body was bending just to rest against Ed’s shoulder, and he was trapped. Well, sucks to suck. 

He was feeling nice, so Ed lifted his head, releasing the other boy. Instead of moving, Mustang just turned his head, nose now brushing against his neck. His heart rate picked up, and he was sure a Mustang could tell, judging by his smug grin.

“You smell like sweat.”

“Is this how you plan to charm me? Because if so, it’s definitely not working.”

He let out a chuckle before leaving Ed’s side. He let out a small breath he didn’t know he was holding and ignored Winry, who leaned forward, elbows on her knees, a smirk curling on her lips.

“Foreigners,” she whispered. He glared at her.

* * *

“Let’s do something interesting, I don’t want to work,” Mustang complained, setting down his pencil and pushing his homework away. Ed entered the room and wandered over to the table sitting in the middle, going through Winry’s bag to look for a brush.

“Isn’t that the truth,” Hawkeye snorted the same time Ed huffed: “Do you ever?”

Regardless, Hawkeye set down her papers and glanced up.

“I have cards,” Al suggested as Ed took a seat on the ground in front of him, hair still dripping wet from a shower.

“What are we doing?”

“Procrastinating, and no, Elric cheats at anything we play.”

“What?! No I don’t,” Ed exclaimed. How rude of the guests to assume!

“Let’s do like… I don’t know, truth or dare,” Jean suggested.

“That never ends well. Fuck it- whatever.”

Despite being the one who suggested the game, Jean fell asleep while Ed was attempting to do a handstand on one hand. It was a miracle he didn’t wake up while the boy tumbled to the ground.

“Al, truth or dare,” Ed asked, _pickdarepickdsrepickdare_ -

“Truth.”

“Boo, you’re no fun,” he pouted, throwing a paper ball at his brother.

“You’re enough for the both of us.”

“Uh, I don’t know, opinion on Hawkeye’s shirt?”

Al grimaced for a moment, “Sorry Hawkeye… but orange is  _ such  _ an ugly color. And dogs are overrated.”

She let out a mock gasp before waving it off, “You like cats?”

“You wouldn’t believe it,” Ed butted in, “Once, Al picked up a cat while it was raining in East City. We were on a field trip and ended up stranded for the entire night."  


“You didn’t get mugged? East City has the highest crime rates after Central,” Mustang noted. Ed shrugged.

“We would’ve kicked their ass, come at me.”

“Mustang, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Alright,” Al thought for a moment, “See how many things you can stack on Havoc’s head before he wakes up. Or until it falls.”

Ed found himself quietly rooting Mustang on, and rooting through his book bag for trash to pile onto Jean’s head. He handed him a water bottle, which was put upright upon two books, one being Mauro’s and the other being a fucking textbook. How thick was Jean’s skull?

Hawkeye added on Al’s stack of cards and Ed’s notebook before Mustang fucked it up with a shit ton of plastic utensils stolen from the school’s cafeteria.

“You really have nothing better to do, do you?” Ed stared as he pulled about 25 from his bag. 

“I could think of a few things,” Mustang hummed, focusing on the tower. A few around the base, for decoration, and three at the top, like a crown. Then rest were just tacked on, and when his finger pushed against one of the books, the structure wobbled dangerously before collapsing.

The masterpiece came tumbling down, a majority of the spoons sliding down the small gap between Jean’s shirt and his back.

“Fuck!” he muttered as he jumped awake, the textbook having collided with the side of his neck, “You guys are fucking assholes.”

Ed giggled with Al before reaching behind him to fistbump his brother. Jean stood up to shake out the spoons before running a hand through his hair and yawning.

“Your hair looks like a rat’s nest,” Ed pulled his knee against his chest to leant against it.

“Rat’s ne- excuse you! This is  _ artfully tousled _ , thank you very much,” Havoc exclaimed. 

“Artfully tousled my ass,” he snorted, “ _ Mustang _ is artfully tousled, yours is just kind of a bush.”

“Fuck you!”

“No thanks, fuck yourself!”

“Yeah, yeah, Riza, truth or dare?” Mustang cut their bickering off.

“I’ll take a dare.”

“Pick Elric up and be like one of those acrobat people with crazy flips and weird handstands.”

“Excuse me, I didn’t consent to this,” Ed protested before he was promptly grabbed and hoisted up. “HooOly shit!”

His hands locked with hers in a tight grip as he was hefted above her head. Why the fuck was their ceiling so high? His feet barely managed to scrape it. Alright, handstand pushups, he’s done this before. Her arms wobbled as Ed attempted to steady himself. Jean and Winry cheered as they both straightened up. Her eyes met his and he gave her a bright smile, ignoring the rush of blood to his head.

“Alright, alright, let me down,” he muttered. She grimaced and she broke her gaze.

“Ah, I don’t know how to do that.”

“Fuck.”

“Just fall,” Mustang got up and held his hands out, “I’ll catch you.”

“Fuck you,” he let go. His arms felt relieved, now now longer supporting his entire body weight and desperately holding onto Hawkeye’s. He watched Mustang’s face carefully, the world seemingly slowing down. Al was getting up too, in case he was also needed. Ed was pretty sure he kicked the ceiling and left another mark. And Hawkeye, who was looking slightly terrified as he untangled his fingers from hers. Then- oof. Oh that kind of hurt.

Mustang was now cradling him as he wheezed, the collision knocking the wind out of him. Ed was quickly dumped onto the ground as he sucked in a breath. The blood flowed away and Ed was left a bit lightheaded.

“I,” he started, everyone staring at him. Al’s arms were still held out as if to catch him again. “Am never doing that again.”

“I thought you were about to fucking die,” Winry commented from her spot on the couch.

“Then why didn’t you do anything to help me??”

“It looked kind of funny, you being scared for your life.”

“It kind of was,” Mustang agreed. Ed glared at both of them before rolling his eyes and nudging Winry to budge over. He took a seat and flung his arms around the back of the couch, half hugging Winry and Al on either side of him.

“Jean’s right, y’all’re assholes,” he grumbled. 

“That’s enough trauma for one night, see you tomorrow,” Mustang excused himself and Jean followed.

“Elric, truth or dare?” Hawkeye turned away from Mustang’s retreating form.

“We’re still going? Uh, truth, I don’t know.”

“Do you like Roy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Cliffhanger' but you'll be disappointed by the end result. Did you like this chapter or hate it? Let me know. Thanks :)


	31. Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed gets into a fight (for like the eighth time) on a train.

“Do you like Roy?”

His head snapped to meet her pensive stare.

“Excuse me, what?” he shook his head and asked. She repeated the question, but slower, like he was stupid.

“Uh… n-no?” he stuttered. What the fuck, Hawkeye? She furrowed her brow and stared at him long and hard.

“Alright,” she sounded like she didn’t believe him. Ed excused himself and then bolted up the stairs, to Winry’s amusement. 

Of course, because why wouldn't he, he bumped into Mustang, who chose to show up, pulling a shirt over his head. Ed caught a glimpse of his stomach, a fucking six pack, which he should’ve expected, seeing as he was a jock and all. 

His mind short circuited. 

“Elric, there’s a huge ass spider in the bathroom and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Uhh,” Ed mumbled eloquently, blushing red to his roots.  _ ‘Do you like Roy?’ _

“You good?”

“Uhh… math midterms. Tomorrow, gotta go!”

“You study?”

“No.”

In the corner of his eye, he saw Hawkeye climb the stairs and he quickly ducked into his own room. Crush on Mustang? Nah. Al slipped in behind him and the door shut with a click.

“That went well,” Al sniggered. He flipped his brother off.

* * *

Rain fucking sucked. It was the absolute worst weather imaginable, it turned snow to slush, dirt to mud, and soaked everything. And it was cold as hell.  


“I fucking hate rain,” he declared, detaching his automail and shaking it until the water poured out. He kicked off his boot and pulled his pant leg up to his knee. Of course, it would be simpler to just take off his pants but Ed wasn’t about to do that on the train. He flipped the latch and the leg came off, and well as a small stream of water.

“Hear hear,” Mustang grumbled beside him, hair dripping. Ed wrung out his gloves and the water hit the ground with a splat. Winry accepted his arm and bent it, making sure that it wouldn’t rust up. She pulled out some oil from her bag.

“Why the fuck do you even carry that around?”

“For you, dumbass!” She snapped before taking off her jacket and rolling up her sleeves. One of those funnel things came out of Winry’s bag. Ed just sat back and slouched while Winry directed Al on how to bend the limb. 

“The wrist, to the right, 23 degrees, now up,” she muttered. Mustang and Hawkeye were both watching attentively while Ed took off his jacket. It was a bit too cold to be wearing a tank top on the train but he felt a bit disgusting with the high collar. Sweaty and damp.

“Can I try to oil your leg?” Ed looked up to see Mustang looking at the leg in his arms.

“Knock yourself out, just have Winry make sure it’s not rusted afterwards. There literally no right way to oil it,” Ed tossed it to Mustang, who caught it easily and turned it in his hands. 

Today absolutely sucked, he had woken up with his stumps aching like hell, like someone had bruised the entire ring around where his limbs were supposed to be, which was the most obvious sign that it would rain. But then it wasn’t until they were halfway to the train station did it begin to sprinkle, and then outright pour.

Of course, ports trying to murder him didn’t just stop when the rain actually came, it persisted. For like the next two days. Fuck. 

“-here?” Al asked, turned the hand around,  _ shing! _ “OH FUCK!” 

Ed snapped to attention to see Al with a small cut on his chin, blood already forming a small bead. The long knife attachment Winry had incorporated sprung out and nicked him on the chin, Al avoided the worst of it by throwing his head back, banging against the wall of the train.

“Holy shit, Al, are you alright?” Winry and Ed both yelled, Ed leapt out of his seat, only to hop around, body weight uneven.

“Sorry, sorry! I’m fine, just a small cut,” he brushed his hand against his chin and winced at the blood on his fingers. Hawkeye fumbled around her bag and pulled out a tissue to press against the cut until it scabbed over.

“Okay maybe we should use something else as a trigger,” Winry mumbled to herself as she inspected the blade.

“That’s… that’s new,” Jean laughed nervously, “Edpleasedon’tstabme.”

“It’s meant to be for self defense… but I guess friendly fire is on?” Winry attempted to joke. 

“Then maybe just make a cover for it? So you can pop it off then push the switch,” Mustang suggested, examining the steel limb in his hands. Hawkeye poked his leg. With Winry or Al, it seemed perfectly fine with how comfortable Ed was with them. But with Mustang and Hawkeye it felt… weird, intrusive? Maybe not intrusive, he gave them his permission, but something akin to that.

“Hm, maybe, I’ll toy around with it over the weekend. Maybe I should just take out the blade for now?”

“Sure, assuming Ling Yao’s bodyguard doesn’t try and kill me. Again,” he grunted. Ed’s hand came up to rub at the seam where his port met his skin at his neck. The part was heavily scarred, skin and tissue that had never quite healed. He watched Mustang try and shove the funnel in between the small cracks in the automail.

“At this point I don’t even want to ask,” Jean poked at Ed’s cheek. He scowled and closed his eyes. If the railroad suddenly blew up and the train was forced to turn back around and dump them in Resembool, Ed would be perfectly fine with that.

A loud boom sounded and the train shook. Ed’s eyes popped open and widened. Fuck, no, he wasn’t serious about that. The train screeched to a halt and all of them slapped their hands over their ears to prevent possibly deafness. The other commuters in their car got up and started to mutter. Ed’s ears were still ringing.

“A-arm,” he choked out. He made frantic grabbing motions and Winry quickly obliged, shoving the dagger back into its place and shoving it into his hand. Ed winced as he connected the limb and Mustang knelt down in front of him jammed the leg straight upwards.

“Fuck,” Ed cursed at the slight jolt of pain.

“Sorry, did I-“

“No, no, just the nerves. What happened to the tracks?” Ed changed the topic and looked towards Al and Jean, who both had the window open and their heads sticking out of it. 

They seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, stuck in between cities. They were probably close to East City, the outline a faint blur against the horizon. The steady rain had died down, just a quiet pitter patter against the roof. 

“The… the entire rail was blown up for a kilometer, at the least, the front of the train was unaffected,” Al muttered, still staring out. Passengers nearby began to push open the doors connecting the cars to move around and get news. 

“Stay down and put your hands up,” a gruff voice growled, “Cooperate and no harm will come to you.”

Like hell they will! A quick glance and a nod confirmed Al was on board. A quick one-two from Ed, jab at the face then sweep out the legs, He held his jacket over the man’s mouth until he went limp. Al was taking care of the guy’s partner, the only indication of a scuffle was the yell quickly muffled by his brother’s hand.

“Win, you can make sure they stay out, right?” Ed turned to see Winry’s stern gaze. She didn’t like it, but it was what had to be done. Mustang and Jean’s eyes were slightly wide with shock. He kicked the gun out of the unconscious man’s hand.

“Mustang, Hawkeye, check the other compartments, Jean, make sure nothing happens with Win-“ Ed was cut off while dishing out orders.

“Why did y-you do that??” A terrified women’s voice wavered, “We could’ve been unharmed but n-now…”

“You should’ve just let them be!” A man added on. He curled around his son protectively. The child couldn’t be older than 10.

“We’ll take care of this,” Ed turned to Al. But what if they couldn’t. 

“Brother, you go over, I’ll go through?”

He gave a last look at Mustang and Hawkeye, who were already making their way to the back of the train. Ed climbed out of the open window and hefted himself up onto the roof of the train. He crept forward quickly, footsteps light against the metal under his feet. The rain was annoying, light touches against his skin that distracted him from listening closely to anything outside.

Ed paused over the next car and heard a few grunts that were silenced. Get to the front of the train. He lowered himself onto his stomach and peered through the window. Inside, the two conductors were being held at gunpoint, two other people. One of them had their back to the window. He spun himself around, and before he could regret anything he kicked through the window and knocked the stupid guy in the head.

“What? Uhf-“ the distraction was all one of the conductors needed to make a move and knock out the other guy with a punch to the head.

“Thanks, kid,” he clapped Ed on the shoulder. He grinned and then switched his blade out. Kick open the door, three guys. As soon as they caught sight of them they all began to whip out their guns and shoot. Stab them in the arm. Move on. He neared the next part of the train, probably like booth compartment things for important people, and heard someone crooning.

“Well, Hakuro? What is it? You are outnumbered, and there are about forty civilians on the train, give or take a few,” then with a good kick, the door cracked and splinters of wood flew toward whoever was threatening some Hakuro guy. The man was tall and ripped, but his most notable feature was the large hunk of metal that encased his arm. The automail was raised above his head to block the onslaught of wood chips and when he lowered it, an ugly grin overtook his face at the sight of Ed.

“Well, well, well, a worthy challenger?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could not think of a good title for the life of me. So I went with the most obvious choice... well anyways this is from FMA 03, just add in more and take some. Quick question: who would be most likely to crack puns? In my opinion it would either be Al, Winry, or Jean. Like this? Hate it? Let me know, thanks :)


	32. Fuck the Police

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed gets pissed at the authorities.

“I think you’ll find I’m more than wor-” Ed snarked. The man dropped like a fly and revealed Mustang, a smug smirk on his face. “Oh my god. You fucking asshole! You stole-”

“What, were you waiting for him to monologue?” he replied before stepping over the limp body and peering into the compartment, where a terrified man with sandy brown hair cowered with his wife and kid. The man had a bullet hole through the side of his ear, and was bleeding all over his jacket. The kid had the look of childhood trauma in his eyes. Oh well, about time, anyways. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“You asshole,” Ed growled. The door behind Mustang slid open to reveal Hawkeye and Al side by side.

“All clear.”

“I feel like I’m part of a secret spy team,” Al noted, staring down at the man with the automail. 

“My lord, who are you?” the sandy haired man finally whispered. “You- you just saved my life.”

“Do we still have to go to school?” Ed grumbled, letting his form relax and rolling his shoulder. It hurt like a bitch. 

“Well… the track’s been blown up,” Mustang raised a hand to stifle his yawn. 

“We called the train station,” one of the conductors informed them, “Someone will be here in the next 10 minutes.”

“Coolio,” Ed muttered, “Come on, let’s go make sure Jean didn’t like, I don’t know, pass out, or something.”

The boy in question was not, in fact, passed out. He seemed to be reassuring all the other passengers on the train. Crowd control, huh? Winry had dragged the two goons into the corner and then thrown a few pieces of paper onto them in an attempt to cover it up.

“Nice,” Ed snorted at the sight, “Right wake me up later, I’m going back to sleep.”

He threw up a peace sign and then collapsed on a bench.

* * *

Ed woke up in a tangle of limbs. He pried his eyelids open to look around. Somehow he had ended up on the ground, even though he had fallen asleep in a seat. His head was on Mustang’s shoulder, with said boy’s arm wrapped around his waist. Jean was using his legs as a pillow, curled up right next to him. Across from him, also on the floor, Hawkeye had her arms crossed and legs outstretched to rest on Mustang’s. Ed glanced down to see his hand resting on Jean’s head.

The reason he had woken up was because Winry was poking at his cheek. 

“Get up, the train people want to talk to you guys,” she whispered. He elbowed Mustang in the side, who awoke with a jolt.

“You go talk to ‘em,” he muttered.

“Who?”

“Train people.”

With a sigh, the arm around his waist let go of it’s grasp and Ed mourned the lack of warmth. He shut his eyes and slouched to hug Jean’s head closer. Hawkeye was jostled on Mustang’s way up and made a small noise of acknowledgement. Oh she was awake.

He felt Al pull him up from the ground.

“Al, let me sleep,” Ed whined. Jean’s head hit the floor with a clunk and he swore loudly as he was shocked awake.

“Fuck, shit- that fucking hurt,” Jean cursed, pushing himself into a sitting position and rubbing at his head.

“Right, now  _ all _ of you can talk to the train people,” Winry held out a hand for Jean to pull himself up with. “They need like testimonies or whatever the fuck. From you, since you guys were the ones doing everything and stuff.”

Al led him off the train, where two men in uniform were off to the side questioning Mustang. There was a car parked nearby and a group of people were inspecting the blown up tracks.

“This can’t be right…” one of the men muttered as Ed and Al neared, “You’re just a bunch of kids.”

“You needed to speak with us?” Ed asked, resisting the urge to yawn and stretch.

“Right, who were the ones who apprehended the attackers?” one of the men scribbled in a small notebook they were holding.

“That would be us,” Ed eyed the people before him. The one holding the notebook was very tall, all muscle, with a neckbeard, his complexion was fair and his hair was light. The other was slightly shorter, and a bit rounder. His nose was red and his hair was a chocolate brown color. Ed scratched at his neck. 

“Yeah, yeah, kid,” he heard the taller one mutter under his breath, Ed glared at the guy. Hello? We just did you a favor, asshole. Did your job for you!

“Yeah, well, here we are, can you hurry up? We’re going to be late for school.”

“Brother,” Al hissed at him, jabbing him in the side.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, Al,” Ed mocked. He didn’t apologize to the policemen. Al didn’t force him to.

“You ought to learn some respect, young man,” the blond one paused his scribbling, “now who’s the-”

“Take your own advice, considering we’re the ones who saved everyone’s asses,” he snapped. The duo look offended. Why the fuck were  _ they _ offended? Mustang had a hand covering his mouth, disguising his laughter as coughs. 

“Al, if you don’t hold me back I’m about to fucking deck these morons,” he stated. Mustang choked.

“Now listen here, we are police men, and-“

“We get it, now can you get on with your questions?”

“There is no way one of the most wanted criminals in East City was taken down by a couple of-“

“That’s them, sir,” a conductor stepped away from another pair of officers. Thank fucking God, Ed was about to strangle the dense fuckwad in front of him. “They were the ones who saved us.”

“As I was saying,” Ed wanted to slap him, “Now can you  _ please  _ get on with it.”

“Oh,” the blond was at a loss for words.

“Easy, tiger,” Mustang chuckled, patting the top of Ed’s head. He glared at him and caught the hand at the wrist. Mustang jokingly held up his hands in surrender before crossing them across his chest. “But, with all due respect, officers, we are late to school.”

Under Mustang’s cool and collected gaze, Ed’s fury, and the conductor’s word, the blond officer quickly changed the topic and started to interrogate them.

“How many attackers did you apprehend?”

Ed started to mumble and count on his fingers, “One with Al, two in the front, those three guys, and then the bastard took the last one so that’s like… six. Oh yeah I stabbed a couple of people, you should probably make sure their shit doesn’t get like, infected, or something.”

“You… stabbed,” the shorter one looked faint. 

“We should probably get Riza for this,” Mustang said, “But two in the one behind us, one in the connecting thing, then three in the last. When we were coming back up Riza doubled back but I don’t know if she found anyone. Then that last guy, which was fair game, Elric, so that makes seven.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe later.”

“Fuck off.”

“Anyways,” Al cut in loudly, “I saw four.”

“Keep up, Al,” Ed grinned and judged his brother in the side. Al shoved him back. The officers stared at them for a moment.

“Yes, um. I need confirmation, any and all actions you took against these men were solely in the name of self defense, correct?”

“No, I felt like stabbing someone today and I just went for it.”

“What he meant,” Al said loudly, turning Ed around and pushing him back toward the train, Mustang cackling next to him, “was ‘yes, officer, have a good day!’”

Mustang snorted.  


“I feel like a fucking babysitter.”

“You’re the baby here, Al. And when did you become so responsible? It seems just yesterday you were waking me up to go with you to pee,” Ed sighed wistfully and stepped onto the train, dropping into a seat next to Winry.

“When I was like six.”

“Six, fourteen, same thing!” Ed waved him off. “Are we still going to school, or?”

“I think they might keep us in East City for a while, Riza you need to go speak with the officers outside,” Mustang sighed. 

“I already have, but Jean has too.”

“Okay, but I didn’t do anything.”

“Go anyways. Just to be safe.”

Jean left and was back within five minutes, and the officers outside were looking defeated, to Ed’s delight. Eventually other cars arrived, along with a few medics, to escort everybody off of the train and into East City. 

“Right, so we’ve missed like three blocks now…” Mustang glanced at the watch on his wrist.

“Oh shit, already? Do you think Grumman will accept ‘blown up rails’ as an excuse?”

“Grumman would be the one blowing up the rails, if anything,” Mustang muttered. Ed cocked his head.

“You know the principal personally?”

“To some degree, he’s Riza’s grandfather.”

“Oh… first her dad, now the principal? Oh yeah!” Ed snapped his fingers, “Do you want to join our club? We’re making a club for daddy issues, she said you might be interested.”

Mustang choked, “For- for what? Excuse me?”

“Daddy issues,” Al supplied helpfully, “So far it’s just Brother, Hawkeye, and I. We’re having our first meeting after school on Friday.

“S-sorry, that just caught me off guard,” Mustang wheezed, “I- uh, sure, why not.”

“Be prepared to talk about sensitive subjects, though,” Ed added, climbing out of the car and shoving his hands into his pockets. He rocked on his heels as the officers got out behind him. 

The rest of the day was spent confined to an uncomfortable plastic chair (not like school was any different) and being asked the same questions over and over again. The only thing that kept Ed sane was the pack of cards he and Al alternated carrying around everywhere. Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tempted to make a chapter called the 'faux-lice' just for the pun but probably not. Instead of joining the military, Ed goes along with Izumi Curtis's mindset of 'the government can kiss my ass'. Liked it? Hated it? Feedback is appreciated, thanks :)


	33. No, You Don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed is not ready for his birthday.

With February came many things, relief from midterms, an influx of chocolate circulating around school, and Edward’s birthday among many other things. The most notable of these events was Trisha Elric’s death-versary. Which, sadly, happened to coincide with Ed’s birthday.

On the morning of February 12th, Ed couldn’t sleep. Neither could Al. Both of them rarely could around this time of year. 

Granny and Winry were both up early as well, and Granny passed a bouquet of flowers on to Ed. He took a hold of Al’s hand and began the trek down to the graveyard. It had rained the night before, and the morning dew clung to the grass. There was a slight mist and a lingering pain in Ed, both metaphorically and literally. 

They made their way through the gate, weaving in and out of the stones. The path was memorised after dozens of visits over the years.

Ed set down the flowers and knelt down on one leg, letting the water soak through to his knee. Al did the same beside him before starting to speak quietly, eyes fixed on a spot beyond her headstone. He listened to Al speak, how the weather was, what happened in school, that girl he had a crush on. Ed didn’t realize that his brother had stopped speaking until Al nudged his arm.

“O-oh,” Ed cleared his throat, “Hey, Mom. I guess Al told you everything that’s been going on, yeah? I’m 16 now. Doesn’t feel any different, but I guess I can drive now. We don’t have a car, though. The team is going to Central soon, I think we stay for a week but the thing only goes on for like two days. There’s been some crazy people running around killing people so it might get cancelled. Actually, Al and I’ve been almost killed like three times. Wow, that would’ve given you a heart attack. This Xingese prince tried to kill us, and then our train got blown up and stuff. Uh, we formed a club for people whose dads have walked out on them. Oh wait no, I shouldn’t tell you about that, uh-”

“Edward? Alphonse?” a voice spoke behind them. Ed cut off his sentence and whirled around, jumping to his feet.  _ Oh my fucking god _ . Van Hohenheim was tall, far taller than both Ed and Al. His hair tied back in a low ponytail. He looked exactly the same as he did 11 years ago, just.

“Dad…?” Al whispered behind him. 

There was a warm feeling in Ed’s stomach, not a good warm feeling. It felt like a bonfire, slowly growing bigger and bigger until the flames engulfed his body. The hopeful expression on his face seemed to just become fuel to the fire. Not warm, hot, scalding. Burning.

“Why the fuck are you here?! Where the fuck have you BEEN?”

“I’m back, Edward. I’m here to visit my family.”

This fucking… dumb as shit, good for nothing, asshole. Before he knew it Ed was vaulting over a row of headstones and shoving Hohenheim. “You fucking bastard!” Ed screamed. A good punch across the stupid useless father’s face sent him flying across the graveyard.

“Edward! That was uncalled for!” he exclaimed, sitting up and rubbing at his head, “Where’s Trisha? Why are you in a graveyard? Don’t tell me Pinako-”

“Mom’s fucking dead! You would’ve known that if you bothered to stick around! You scum of the earth-” Ed yelled. 

“Brother!” Al grabbed on to Ed’s arm as he advanced. A growl rose out of his throat as he tried to shake Al off, “Sorry, we have to… to go to school.”

His brother’s gaze lingered on Hohenheim’s form before pushing Ed out of the graveyard.  _ ‘That was uncalled for!’ my ass! _ Ed thought to himself. It was moments like these he was very grateful for the wonderful automail Winry built for him. Speaking of, the girl was standing outside the gate, glancing at the man they left behind.

“Ed? Who was that?”

“Nobody important,” he barked before seizing her in a hug, “Thank you so much, Winry?”

“Uh… you’re welcome?” she said hesitantly, patting Ed on the back. She handed their book bags and a cup of coffee to them and Ed let go of his tight embrace.

“I feel so much better. Mom might be kind of pissed at me now, though. I’m fucking 16!” he crowed.

“You switch moods quicker than I can run,” Winry muttered. Al nodded.

“Whatever. Mom wanted us to live life to the fullest, right? And I’ve been wanting to slug that motherfucker since I was five.”

His hand clenched at the thought of the man.

“Wait! Edward-”

“Let’s go,” Ed said loudly, and dragged the other two down the road to the train station. He spent the ride staring at the window, leg refusing to stay still. Thing was, he could remember the last birthday he celebrated, which involved a 35 step plan. Hopefully he wouldn’t meet the same fate.

If the looks Winry kept sending him were supposed to be inconspicuous, then she was failing rather badly.

He stepped off the train and tossed the empty coffee cup into a trash can. He fiddled with the hem of his jacket as the three of them stepped onto school grounds. 

Ed was so close, a mere five meters away from the stairs leading into the school when he was lifted up in the air.

“What the fuck?!” he shrieked, twisting around to see Mustang, grinning as accommodated Ed with ease, “You bastard- let me down!”

“No, no, as I recall it seems it’s a certain somebody’s birthday.”

“Fuck you.”   
  
“Happy birthday,” Mustang muttered. That was the only warning he gave before leaning forward and pressing his lips to Ed’s. Oh shit. His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into Mustang, hands coming up to rest against his shoulders. Ed unconsciously pressed his body against Mustang’s and- “You… you are so smart, witty, and… gorgeous. Go out with me?”

“Oh shit- wait what??” Ed sputtered, blushing bright red. Did Mustang just fucking kiss him? And compliment him? Yes, but did he enjoy it? Very much. Oh fuck. “I- uh, wait are you for real?”

“Yes,” he set Ed down. His hands slipped off Mustang’s shoulders and he took a step back. He had a gentle smile, which seemed to falter as he started to sputter.

“Uh- you, you like me?! I- fuck, uh,” he continued to trip over himself, and his words. “No, you… you don’t.”

“Yes, yes I do,” He watched the taller boy start to take on a red flush, “Y-you know what? Sorry, just… forget it. See you later.”

And then he ran off. Ed’s mouth hung open, millions of thoughts running through his head. Hawkeye was standing behind Mustang, staring at him as he shook his head to clear his thoughts. She gave him one last look before running after Mustang. 

“Did… did Mustang just ask you out?” Al whispered, as if not to ruin the moment. Like Ed didn’t do it all on his own.

“I… he probably didn’t mean it,” Ed muttered, his hands still drifted up to touch his lips, “Casa-casanova, right?”

“But… do you wish he did?”

“I uh… I don’t know.”

* * *

His mind was a mess, between Hohenheim, Mustang, and the fact that it was fucking RAINING again, Ed kind of wanted to lock himself in Teacher’s office and hyperventilate. Not that he could, so he clenched his fists and powered through the day, busying himself so that he had no time to think about a certain raven haired menace.

At the same time, he was constantly dragging his gaze away from said menace, trying to gauge whether or not his feelings were genuine. Maybe it was just a joke, made to embarrass him. He did it to Mustang, after all. Yeah, that was probably it. But then the thought persisted, what if it  _ wasn’t _ .

And then Mei Chang was a whole ‘nother problem. Al’s sweet little crush, cute little Xingese doll, turned out to be a fucking brat. A whiny brat with a smart mouth (and also very smart herself, she had skipped a grade) and a high pitched shriek. He had no business with the girl whatsoever, but she had ran up to him and started accusing him of ‘stealing a young maiden’s love’ and ‘toying with a princess’s affections’. She called him many names. 

“Holy shit- fuck off I have other problems to deal with!” he shoved Al in front of him as a shield between him and the girl, “Fuck off, bean girl!”

“How dare you, Edward Elric! You sh- YAO?!” her screeching was abruptly cut off and Ed cautiously peeked around Al to see she had taken up a defensive stance, eyes fiery as she glared at something. He turned around.

“What the fuck?!” he jumped, Ling looked unusually serious, it looked odd on him, in a hot way. Rather than his usual carefree smile and squinted eyes, his pupils were clear as he glared back. His arms were crossed across his chest, but his feet were barely touching the floor, ready to leap away at any moment. 

“Chang.”

Then the girl sprinted off into some unknown corner of the cafeteria, disappearing from sight in two seconds flat.

“Uh… you two know each other?” Ed asked after watching the girl scram. The serious look vanished from his face, a cheerful smile taking its place.

“Mm, in a sense. She’s my half-sister.”

“Half?”

“Well... our father’s kind of a man whore,” he said. Not an ounce of respect. Nice. “There’s 41 others.”

He did a double take.

“F-forty, o-” Ed choked. He begrudgingly invited Ling to the club. He immediately regretted it, as Ling took it as an invitation to his food and began to flirt.

“You know what? Go back to the dark side, I need to have a gay crisis,” he grumbled. With a good shove, Ling was sent on his way back to the stupid Homonculus? Homonculi? Whatever the fuck they called themselves and Ed’s attention was turned back to the cause of the crisis. He met Mustang’s eyes, the other quickly looking away when he was caught staring. It brought a small bit of heat to Ed’s cheeks and he turned back to beg Al for advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting yesterday. School just started today and I hate waking up early. Ed already had a gay crisis in junior high but now haha here's another, thanks Mustang! Liked it, hated it, either way let me know. Thanks :)


	34. I'm alive. And kind of happy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed gets scarred. But it ends up okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter is not edited. The reason for this is that I liked the feelings I got from writing it and so I didn't want to edit it because of fear that I would hate how cringey? the chapter is. The reason there is a question mark is because, again, it's mostly unedited and I have no clue what happened here.

There seemed to be a rift between Ed and Team Mustang. Jean was the semi-oblivious bridge. Mustang was all strained smiles and sad eyes, Hawkeye was his loyal dog. Their quote unquote “bonding” nights had all but disappeared, Mustang choosing to disappear into the patient room. It was like all their progress had been torn up, flushed down the toilet, fished out of the sewers, and then stepped on. 

‘Just  _ talk _ to him,’ Winry had pleaded. Over and over. Of course he wasn’t about to do  _ that _ . 

Hohenheim was the absolute worst. Not much had changed there. But then he declared he had business in Central and the only reason Ed actually believed him was because he stubbornly refused to tell the stupid man anything about himself. So his dad wasn’t stalking him, woohoo.

Things were picking up pace as the date ‘March 27th’ neared. Principal Grumman had a terrifying gleam in his eye as he practically ordered all of the ECHS representatives to train with the school teams. As a result, the team saw less and less of each other as the deadline quickly approached. 

Ed was 90% sure all of Hawkeye’s free time was spent frantically trying to tutor Jean, who’s grades had begun to drop with the added stress. His own crisis had to take a backseat, and it was with a shock that Mei Chang seemed to suddenly drop into his life. She slowly drifted toward them, watching Al with stars in her eyes as he blushed. It was kind of sickening, how they so obviously pined for each other yet constantly seemed to evade one another. 

When the students were packed onto a train and shipped off the Central, Ed was shoved into the corner of a compartment with the rest of the volleyball team. Plus Maes Hughes, who was technically supposed to be with his relay team, but they could care less where he sat. 

Their space was filled with consistent chatter, everyone catching up with each other after a stressful month. Kain, yes they were on first-name basis, quietly offered him a bar, but Ed turned it down. He stretched out his legs, pulled his hood over his head, and then dozed off to Jean’s loud laughter.

The golden blond woke right as the train rolled into Central. The big city, whoop dee fucking doo. He quickly lifted his head off Kain’s shoulder and mumbled an apology while rubbing his eyes. He cracked his neck and then bent down to grab his briefcase suitcase thing. Ed caught Mustang’s as he straightened but the other quickly turned away. That seemed to be the norm nowadays.

“Welcome, East City High!” a man with a megaphone stood on the train station, “Central is so excited to have you! As you know, the Sports Tournament between the five schools will take place at the end of the week, from March 27th to the 28th. This week, you will be staying in Central and getting a feel of the fields, and we hope you will form bonds with the other teams. You will be in the spare dorms of Central Academy in groups of four, who you will be rooming with will be listed outside each room. We hope you enjoy your stay here!”

Watching Mustang took up whatever free time Ed had, and the boy seemed to blend straight into the hustle and bustle of Central, along with Hawkeye. But when  _ weren’t _ they together?

“Why’s this such a big deal,” he grumbled to himself under his breath. Jean overheard and cheerfully swung an arm around his shoulders.

“Where’s your school spirit? Your Eagle pride?!”

“Ugh, that shit sounds so fucking cringey, never say that again.”

“Come  _ on, _ Ed! East City Eagles!”

“Don’t remind me.”

* * *

He ended up with Jean, Mustang, and a kid on Hughes’s relay team, Charlie Meyer. He seemed to get along with Mustang and Jean well but Ed just avoided him. He quickly claimed the top bunk and swung his case over onto the mattress before jumping up the ladder on the side. Jean took the bed underneath him and the Meyer boy took the other top bunk.

“We have some time to burn, right?”

“We gotta stay in groups or some shit like that, with the murderer running around in Central and all that. Name’s like the Chopper or something.”

“Barry the Chopper.”

“Wow, so threatening,” Ed said sarcastically, staring at the ceiling. ‘Central Academy’ sounded so prestigious. They probably wore uniforms or something. Despite the fact that he was under the threat of possible murder, he was growing restless in the small room.Ed rolled over onto his side, head nearly falling off the edge of the bed to stare at Mustang.

He seemed to be trying to nap, eyes closed as his hands rested on his stomach. Were his hands calloused, like Hawkeyes? They looked smooth, Ed wanted to hold one. Or maybe both. He was right handed, right?  _ What the fuck am I thinking _ , Ed rolled back over and stared at the wall instead. 

_ ‘Do you like Roy?’ _ he could blame all his problems on those four words. Mustang kissed him, so what? He had felt hopeful, happy, and excited, so what? In the end, Mustang asked him out and then he fucked it up. He probably had a girlfriend by now.

“God fucking damn it,” he cursed before snapping open his briefcase and reaching for his wallet. A quick call home and then back, shouldn’t take less than five minutes. Besides, what if Al set the house on fire? Who would be there to save Winry and Granny? Probably Al. The point still stands, he needed to call to make sure that termites haven’t been eating at the house for the last 20 years or something. Yeah, that was why. 

He quickly slipped out of the room and out of the dorms, passing the security guard unnoticed. Just five minutes, in and out. The group had passed a phone booth on the way there from the train station, a block away at the most. The streets were empty, everyone having gone back to work after their lunch break. He felt something stick to his boot and glanced down.

A dirty newspaper, with the headline ‘MURDERER STILL ON THE LOOSE: THE 19TH VICTIM’. Oh yeah, they were supposed to travel in groups. There was an image attached, a body cleaved up and bloody, and Ed winced at the gore. That had to be exaggerating, right? Just to scare the public? He bent down to skim through the article. 

There weren’t many details, just don’t be out late or alone. There seemed to be no connections between the victims, just women with long blond hair. His hand came up to touch the end of his braid. Long, blond, hair. Ed felt chills run up his spine and glanced around the empty street, as if the culprit would jump out at him at any moment.

Five minutes. In and out. The phone booth was right up ahead, and a truck splashed some water toward him as it drove past, parking a little bit away at the end of the street. A butcher’s truck. He stared at it for a moment before wiping off the water that had landed on his face. Ew, dirty street water. 

Stepping into the phone booth, he pulled out the wallet and clumsily inserted a few coins into the machine. He punched in the shop’s number and waited as it rang.

“Hello? This is Rockbell Automail, how can I help you?”

“Hey, Win. It’s me, is Al there?” Ed asked. Winry covered the phone with a hand and then yelled for his brother.

“Brother! Is everything alright in Central?”

“Yeah, we just got here. I just wanted to check that you didn’t… burn the house down or something.”

“Aw, you’re already homesick?”

“No, I’m not! I call to see if you guys are alright and you’re teasing me?” Ed huffed playfully, “I thought I raised you to be better, Al.”

He could practically see the eyeroll, “Everything’s fine, have you gotten anything to eat?”

Ed closed his eyes and leaned against the side of the booth with a slight smile.

“No, not yet. I think we’re going to go to the school’s cafeteria in like an hour, though.”

“Sure you can survive ‘til then?”

“Shut up! My eating habits are perfectly nor-”

The door to the booth swung open and Ed’s eyes snapped open. He caught a glimpse of a man in an apron before feeling a slight pressure in his neck and his body began falling. The phone slipped out of his hand and clanged against the machine as his vision blurred.

“Brother? Are you okay? Did something happ-”

Ed woke up with a wave of panic flooding his senses. He wriggled around to find his hand was cuffed to the back of the chair and there was a chain around his middle. There was something missing. Fuck. He looked down to see his sleeve hanging limply at his side. Where the fuck was his arm. Where the fuck was his arm. Where the fuck was his arm.

His heart seemed to take this as a great time to self destruct, frantically beating out of his chest as his eyes roved over his surroundings.  _ Where the fuck was his arm _ . He was in a warehouse of some kind, the lighting was dim. There were rows upon rows of meat hanging from lines strung across the center of the warehouse. A butcher’s truck. There was a distant sound of whirring.

_ Please just let it be Sig. _ He spotted a small metal table,  _ there _ . His arm. His leg seemed to still be on and untampered with. The whirring stopped.

“You’re awake?” 

A man appeared with a butcher’s knife held over his shoulder. This. This is fine. He’s seen butcher’s knives before. He’s  _ used _ them before. This is fine.

The butcher had short dirty blond hair. His was tall and thin, with a slightly crazed look in his eyes. Ed jerked his hand but the cuff just clanked against the chair. They were too small to slip his hand out of. The man was walking slowly, leisurely, like it was just a walk in the park, rather than a kidnapper and his victim. Was this a fucking joke to him.

“W-who are you?” Ed cursed the slight waver in his voice, “Where am I?”

He scanned around him for something, anything. No doors in sight. Two windows. Was there anyone there..? He dug his heel into the ground to push himself away from the approaching man. His back hit the wall.

“Don’t worry, there’s no one here but us.”

‘Don’t worry’. ‘DON’T WORRY’. OH WOW THANKS THAT WAS SO REASSURING, YOU PSYCHO.

“I assume you’ve heard about me,” the man continued, “My name’s Barry. Well, now they call me ‘Barry the Chopper’, I suppose. I’m sure you’ve heard about me, apparently they even talk about me in North City! And nothing ever gets up there!”

He laughed, as if this was something to be proud of. Ed’s hand was cold. And sweating.  _ He _ was cold. And sweating. He could feel his hand shaking. He took in a deep breath through his nose.  _ Stay calm. You’re no use if you start crying,  _ Ed chanted to himself. He tried not to shrink as the man loomed over him. There was a small grin across his face.

“It doesn’t matter where you are. I saw you looking at the newspaper. Did you like it? That girl was quite nice, very soft. She was crying the whole time, that was a shame. She had such a pretty face, too! Something like… Violet? Vidalia?” he sighed with a blissful look on his face.

“W-why..?” oh, now his  _ throat _ was giving up on him as well! His heart wasn’t doing any better, and which each step ‘Barry’ took toward him, the closer he was to hyperventilating.

The question had ‘Barry’ pausing and cocking his head to the side. If it had been Al doing it, then it would’ve seemed innocent and cute, but with the grown man that has a steadily rising body count, it looked… unnerving. Unnerving didn’t even begin to describe the aura radiating off the man/

“Well, why does anyone do anything? I love doing what I do, getting to feel their flesh, hear them scream, I  _ want _ it. I was in the war, you know. Everyone  _ wanted _ to kill each other. And on the battlefield? Well it just gave them reason to,” his smile dropped, and he stepped forward. The huge knife came off his shoulder and Ed had no time to react. 

It cut into Ed’s shoulder. His flesh shoulder. He let out a strained gasp and felt tears prick his eyes. He could feel blood quickly surfacing and drip down his arm, hitting the ground with a small splat. Can he  _ please _ get that huge ass knife out of him,  _ please.  _ He snapped his mouth shut and breathed in through his nose quickly. His eyes were glued to ‘Barry’s, not daring to blink.

“And you can’t do anything about it.”

It hurt. Hurt like hell. It hadn’t even cut that deep. 

Ed could fight back. And he would. He brought his leg up and swiftly kicked the psycho in the balls. It did the trick, he let go with a howl and the knife was no longer cutting into Ed. Fuck fuck fuck. Where the fuck was he going with this? 

The chair was wood. His leg was automail. Simple as two plus two. He brought up his leg and stomped down as hair as he could, and the chair broke easily. He winced as he avoided the splinters and he stepped out of the chain. What the fuck was he doing. ‘Barry’ wasn’t smiling, or laughing, or whatever the hell anymore. 

“You little shit-” he snarled, charging toward him with the butcher’s knife raised. Ed’s eyes darted around before remembering the chain held in his hand. He threw it at ‘Barry’ right as the knife came down, and fell to the floor. Get- get to the fucking arm. Then he would stand a chance. 

He willed his body to move.  _ Help _ . He kicked stupid ‘Barry’s knee along the way. The man let out loud curses that echoed in the empty warehouse.  _ There’s literally huge hanging carcasses, use those to your advantage. Well sorry, me, I can’t exactly think there’s a tall man trying to KILL ME AND I’M GOING TO DIE FUCK FUCK. _

Ed snags the arm off the table and nearly gets his head cut off, if not for the fact he tripped over a cloth bag on the floor. His entire body is shaking, he realizes as he crawls underneath the metal table.  _ Find a door. Run. Hide. Anything. _ He scrambles out and can feel the butcher grabbing at his shirt. If he had been wearing his cloak,or even his jacket, then he would surely be dead already.  _ Help _ . Fucking hell. He was going to fucking die here, wasn’t he? And no one would even know.

He weaved through the warehouse, pausing to gather his surroundings and remind himself to breath. ‘Barry’ was currently snarling as he forcefully shoved aside the pigs? Hanging from the line. The one he was hiding behind shifted and he watched as ‘Barry’s eyes flashed at the sight of him.  _ Help _ . 

Ed shoved the arm into the port and screamed. Between this fucking psycho, his arm, which was still leaving a trail of blood, and the slight jolt from the nerves, Ed wanted to do a lot more than scream. 

“Too late,” ‘Barry’ grinned. Ed was trapped.  _ Help. I’m going to die here. _ He raised his automail to protect his head and flinched with each and every swing of the damn knife. Ed’s flesh arm was nicked countless times, leaving behind cuts that would surely scare. Fuck. 

_ Al, the world doesn’t deserve you. I’ll miss you. Mustang, I’m sorry. For not acting sooner, for never talking to you. Winry, thank you for giving me a leg to stand on, and an arm to fight with- _

Winry’s automail was good. But it wasn’t  _ that _ good. It would only be a matter of time until it gave out. Broken. Destroyed. Then he was surely fucked.  _ Wait… automail. _

‘Barry’ was laughing, like this was something he did on a daily basis. Actually, this  _ was  _ something he did on a daily basis. No, not for long. Ed kicked him again. And ripped off the small cover on the back of his arm. Mustang had suggested it.  _ Help _ . 

Ed knocked the knife out of ‘Barry’s hands. It went flying, skidding across the floor. There was a small switch.  _ Shing _ . 

Fuck. Ed shoved him back, raised the blade and-

“Stop!”

A hand grabbed Ed’s arm. Fuck. No. No. No. Ed spun around, ‘Barry’ could wait, his wrists were caught.

Golden eyes stared back into his own.

_ Al. _

“I’m still stronger than you,” Al said with a weak smile. There were people. Policemen. 

“Al,” Ed gasped. He grabbed his brother’s arms and squeezed. He’s real. “ _ Al. _ ”

“I’m sorry it took so long,” Al rubbed Ed’s arms in return. He sniffed and then he felt tears slide down his cheeks.

“Fuck,” he choked, “Al… I thought- I… I thought I was going to die.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

“Elric!” 

Ed flinched at the loud call. He sniffed and turned his head to see Mustang running toward him. He was enveloped in a strong hug. So  _ warm. _ He didn’t realize that he was trembling, not only from his mess of emotions, but also because it was the equivalent of a refrigerator inside the warehouse.

“I thought you… why didn’t you  _ tell _ anyone?” Mustang nearly yelled at him. His eyes were glossy. “Never… nevermind that, I’m so  _ glad _ you’re alive.”

“I… I’m s-sorry,” Ed mumbled, leaning into the other boy’s warmth. Mustang must’ve caught on, because he quickly took off his hoodie and tugged it over Ed’s head. It smelled like him. Mustang smelled like laundry detergent. And deodorant. 

“I told you, don’t worry about that right now, we should get out of here, and get you into a hospit-”

“No!” he exclaimed a bit too loudly, and then immediately winced, “I’m sorry for… for basically rejecting you. I didn’t… mean it.”

Mustang softened. Just his entire character softened, “You know, when I imagined you confessing I didn’t think it would be after you just got kidnapped.”

Ed blushed, and his ears burned. It was a welcome change from the about to get frostbite feeling, “T-too soon.”

He hesitated for a moment. That wasn’t very Edward Elric like.  _ Just do it. _ He reached up and placed his hand on Mustang’s cheek and turned his face down. 

Then he reached up and kissed him. 

Much better than the first, he decided. It was sweet and innocent, just a press of the lips. And this time Mustang didn’t try to run away. 

“Roy,” he tried out. It fit nicely. 

“Edward,” he responded. Holy  _ shit _ why has this man  _ not  _ been calling him that? Mustang- Roy? Chuckled softly at his reaction.

“Um,” Al cleared his throat, “Maybe we should get out? And the police want to talk to you…”

Ed let out a shaky laugh,  _ oh my god my brother just watched me kiss someone and-  _ well. Al had a faint dusting of pink across his cheeks and he was pointedly looking everywhere but at the two of them.

_ I’m alive.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I liked writing this. I did not edit this. Ed is traumatized. Roy was terrified but it turned out somewhat alright? Holy shit this was long compared to the other chapters but somehow still not the longest chapter. LET ME KNOW HOW YOU LIKED IT OR HOW YOU HATED IT I WANT FEEDBACK I DON'T LIKE SCHOOL THANKS BYE :D


	35. Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed gets to meet Roy's family, and the day ends quite well.

**_“WHAT?!”_ **

“Oh… did you tell him?”

“Nonono! You have to understand- I’ve been training for this for  _ months! _ Since September! I have to go, you can’t… you can’t forbid me!” Ed yelled. The nurse flinched.

“You’ve just been through a very traumatic experience, rest assured that Barry the Chopper is behind bars, but you can’t possibly attend your little school festival, you are injured, and you will stay in this hospital.”

“Little school fest- HELL NO! This stuff happens like twice a week! I’m fine, it’s just a few scrapes and bruises,” he insisted, scratching at the back of his hand, where some tube was stuck in his hand. Al placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe it’s best if you stay put…” he suggested meekly. 

“What the fuck! Al, you too?!” Ed snapped.

“Young man, you are still in the hospital, please tone down your voice and your language. This is in your best interest,” the nurse stated before leaving. Ed let out a loud huff before crossing his arms and sinking into the cot. They were even worse than Granny’s.

“You!” Ed turned to point an accusing finger at Roy, who was sitting off to the side, leaning on the railing of his bed, “You knew about this!”

“Yes, yes I did. I wish you could, but you can't,” he responded, leaning forward to lean his head on his hand, which was propped up on Ed’s bed.  _ Fuck you _ . “You really should respect your elders.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe later,” he said with a hum. Ed blushed. Before, a quick ‘shut the fuck up, Mustang’ would’ve sufficed, but now…well, it still applies.

“Shut the fuck up, Mustang,” he grumbled. 

“And that’s my cue,” Al muttered before stepping out of the room. Ed let out a loud sigh before glaring at the door.

“Maybe they’ll let you come and watch?”

“I’d rather not. Just seems like a reminder that I can’t participate,” on that note, Mustang dropped the conversation and left Ed to fidget with the sheets. 

After a short silence Ed turned to the side to look at Roy, too see he was already examining his own features.

“Would you like to meet my Aunt?” he asked out of the blue.

“Your… your aunt?” Ed tilted his head to the side. Aunt in Central. He grew up with a lot of girls, none of them sisters. Maybe an orphanage? A foster home?

“Yeah, she lives on the outskirts of the city. About 4 blocks down from the hospital. Would you like to meet her?”

“Meeting the family already? I didn’t know we were that serious,” Ed said, only half joking. Roy only raised an eyebrow in response. 

“Why, you nervous?’

“As if. Sure I’m up for it. When am I getting out of here?”

When Mus- Roy suggested that Ed meet his family, he was not expecting to end up in a bar. But here he was, three days later, at a bar. ‘MADAME CHRISTMAS’, the front of the building read.

“You grew up in a brothel,” Ed deadpanned, “Somehow I’m not surprised.”

He just threw Ed a wink in response before strolling in, looking right at home in the warmly lit bar.

“Madam?” he asked one of the girls sitting at a table in the center of the room. She looked up from the magazine in her hands and her eyes lit up.

“Roy!” she exclaimed, leaping up. Her long reddish brown hair reached almost past her waist, tied up in a high ponytail. Ed cringed a bit at the bright red lipstick but she had beautiful green eyes. “It’s been so long! The Madame’s in the back.”

“I actually came by over the break. I assume you were in the West?”

“Yeah, I needed a bit of a break. Oh, who’s this?” she peered around Mustang’s tall figure to examine Ed, who had been standing around awkwardly while he chatted with the girls. “He has the prettiest eyes.”

“I know,” Roy smirked.

“Oh uh... “ Ed was left a bit speechless. Did city people just go around and say ‘wow your eyes are pretty’?? How the fuck was he supposed to respond to that? “Th-thanks..?”

“Anyways, we’re here to talk to the Madam. Oh, that reminds me, I’m in the city for a school event, so I can’t come over as much,” Roy grabbed Ed’s hand and tugged him to a room behind the bar. 

“You people are  _ really _ forward,” Ed muttered. Roy paused before a grin tugged at his lips.

“Well, you do have the most stunning eyes, a beautiful gold-”

“If you are done flirting, then I’d like to meet your boyfriend,” a voice called out. A large woman with a mole under her lip appeared, a cigar hanging out of her mouth. 

She would’ve been a beautiful woman in her youth, but running a business and caring for others must have taken its toll on her.

“M-madam!” Roy looked like a kid with his hand stuck in a cookie jar. Ed sniggered, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. Never took Mustang for one to be embarrassed about  _ flirting _ , of all things. And in a brothel, no less.

“Edward Elric. Pleasure to meet you,” Ed introduced himself. Turns out Granny  _ did _ grind some manners into him. She raised an eyebrow before waving a hand for them to take a seat at the bar.

“You’re the third person Roy-boy’s brought by so far. And one of them was Riza,” she commented with her back turned, pulling a few bottles from the shelves.

“Madam,” Roy groaned, sliding a hand down his face. Ed choked and turned on him.

“Third?? How the- fuck?! You’ve had like a million girlfriends!” Ed accused. Speaking of _ … I’ve never been in a relationship. Oh shit. _ Ed pushed the thought away and continued to stare at Roy.

“It’s a compliment, Goldilocks,” she slid a drink to Roy and offered another to Ed, who declined. She took it herself and leaned forward to get a good look at him. Also,  _ Goldilocks? _ Wasn’t she like... blond hair, blue eyes? And a girl? Oh well. “How long have you been together?”

“Uh… four days? Five? Yeah, five. I think I got like a mild concussion,” Ed scratched his head. An hour of unconsciousness was enough to warrant a concussion, right? It certainly wasn’t normal. Or healthy. But here he was, alive and walking.  _ Something _ must’ve happened to his head. 

She squinted at him before letting out a loud bark of laughter, “I like him. Keep him around for a while, will you? Much better than that last girl, was her name Julie or something? He’s much prettier than she was too.”

Ed fidgeted while Roy seemed to be trying to drown himself in the amber liquid he was holding. He traced the seam of his glove while the Madam continued to give him a once over.

“Roy did always have a thing for blonds,” she commented. Roy choked and glared at his aunt. “So, grades? Family? Tell me.”

God, open ended questions. Judging him by his responses. He cleared his throat:

“Uh…” he said eloquently.  _ Uh fuck, shit. Speak _ , “I don’t know. I do well in class, I guess? I think I have better grades than him. Family? Dead mother, runaway father, brother. I guess Granny and Winry both count.”

“‘Dead mother, runaway father’ huh? Sounds familiar, doesn’t it, Roy?” she chuckled, “You’ve passed, Goldilocks.”

“What, by telling you about my fucked up family?” Ed snorted, “Oh shit I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

She laughed loudly at the response and pointed at him, “You know the shovel talk.”

Madam Christmas disappeared for a moment and Roy let out a loud breath, “That wasn’t that bad. Better than I expected.”

“What, you expected me to smash all the bottles, insult your aunt, and escape through the window?” Ed said sarcastically. He glanced at the glass Roy held in his hands.

“Something along the lines of that,” he hummed, “You want some?”

“You know, alcohol and fire don’t mix well.”

Roy rolled his eyes before smiling, “You’re still on that? I swear, it was one time.” 

“Girls! Come over to meet Goldilocks,” Madam Christmas appeared again. The girls at the table shuffled around before eagerly approaching the two of them at the pair seated at the bar. 

“Rosalyn, Penny, Kate, Marilyn, and Olivia,” Roy listed, “Meet Edward.”

Those two words seemed to trigger the girls, all of them rushing forward at once to examine Ed. Holy shit what the fuck. They cooed over his hair, held his eyelids open to look at his eyes, and fawned over his eyebrows. He did have pretty nice eyebrows.

Then one of them suggested palm reading and ripped his glove off. Everyone froze.

The automail was out for all to see. Roy quickly grabbed the glove out of the girls’ hands and hastily shoved it onto his hand. Ed chuckled nervously and offered a sheepish smile as he steadily grew redder.

“Childhood trauma, anyone?”

* * *

“I take back what I said before, that could’ve gone a lot better,” Roy said as they exited the bar. His hand brushed against Ed’s as they walked.

“Fucking commit to it,” Ed snapped before grabbing his hand and intertwining the fingers. Roy let out a loud laugh and leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek. He felt a smile tug on his lips at the contact. Ed could definitely get used to that. “It wasn’t bad. Nice to see where you come from and all that jazz.”

“Yeah, I feel like I should apologize for the girls. They get… enthusiastic.”

“That’s one word for it. You up for Saturday?” he quickly changed the topic.  


“Hopefully. I don’t think Maes could fill your spot quite as well as you do,” Mustang tugged Ed to the left as he was about to step off the street. 

“Speaking of, aren’t you supposed to be training right now? Not with me? Not that I mind…” he trailed off at the end.

“Rest is just as important as practice. Besides, I was just with the team this morning, and you just got discharged, after all.”

"You're saying that just because you're lazy," Ed pointed an accusing finger.

They handed the man at the gate their ID’s. He opened up the gate and they stepped into school grounds. When they stepped into the dorms, the first thing they saw was Jean sprinting down the hall toward them.

“GUYS! Ed!” he yelled, shoving a paper into their faces, “I have been looking for you everywhere, you won’t believe it, you’re in the paper!!”

Ed let go of Roy’s hand and picked up the newspaper. Just like he said, his face was stuck onto the front of the news. 

“Oh god that’s a horrible angle,” Ed muttered. The photo was in color, which made it clear how pale he was, with a dark blue hoodie practically engulfing his body. His face was shining with sweat and tear tracks running down his face. Ed winced at the slight trail of blood behind him, along with his ripped and bloody pant leg. He was practically clinging to Roy’s arm, who was basically steering him toward the medic. 

_ ‘Edward Elric, 15M, on the left. Taken after serial killer ‘Barry the Chopper’ was taken into custody.’  _ the caption read. He stared at the photo for a few more seconds before handing it off for Roy to read.

“As I’m sure you are well aware, there has been a threat lurking around Central for the past few months. With the name “Barry the Chopper”, he had nearly 100 victims. The mysterious murderer turned out to be a butcher, discovered on Monday the 22nd. Central Academy student Edward Elric, age 15, exposed-” Roy cut off abruptly before squinting, “Did… did I read that right? Since when were you attending Central? And I thought you were 16?”

“Sorry to disappoint, I’ve decided to transfer,” Ed sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets as he pushed open the dorm room, “How the fuck would I know? The news is bullshit and you know it. I’m considered lucky that they even put ‘male’, with my braid and all.”

“Ed, don’t just brush it off like that!” Jean whined, flopping down onto his bed, “It’s front page! I’d kill to even make it in the newspaper.”

“Change your wording,” Ed winced before climbing up to the top bunk. His suitcase was still sitting on the bed, just open and a few clothes strewn around. Wow, thanks Al. 

“Oh. Sorry. Sucks that you can’t be on the team, though.”

The door opened again, their other roommate stepping in. He looked around before spotting Ed.

“Hey, is this you?” Meyer waved around another newspaper with Ed’s face plastered on it. 

“Yeah? What about it.”

“Cool, nothing much. Just thought you were sneaking out or something.”

“Nice to know you think so highly of me,” Ed tugged off Roy’s hoodie (how the fuck did they get to swapping clothes within five days?) and before starting to yank off the bandage covering his arm.

“Hey!” Roy exclaimed, leaping up and climbing to the top to grab his wrist, “You’re not supposed to change those until tomorrow.”

“They’re so fucking uncomfortable,” Ed complained, “‘Sides, I’ve stopped bleeding, haven’t I? Why else do I need this shit?”

“To make sure nothing gets in your cuts!”

“Look, here they are! Basically healed already, see? Scabbed over and everything!” Ed shoved his arm toward Mustang’s face. The bastard kissed it. 

“Even if these are, your shoulder most certainly isn’t!” Roy gathered his discarded bandages, “Whatever… where’s the roll?” 

“You two are sickening,” Jean climbed up to sit next to Ed while Roy sorted through his bag to look for new bandages, “Oh shit… are you sure you’re fine?”

“I’m fine! If they let you out of the hospital, it means you’re healthy!” Ed insisted. He sat with a pout while Roy wrapped his shoulder, thankfully leaving the rest of his arm free. 

“Whatever you say,” he hummed, tying it off before kissing him on the cheek again. Ed flushed while Jean started sputtering about PDA. He pulled off his gloves before trying to tug his shirt out from Jean’s ass. 

“Fucking-  _ move _ ,” he gave a last pull before just pulling the hoodie back on. Meyer kept to himself, scribbling in a journal that he brought with him. Ed pulled out a book from his case and crossed his legs, leaning back against Roy. Against his boyfriend. God, he would never be able to get enough of that.

The next hour was spent mostly in silence, occasionally punctured by Roy’s comments as he read the book over Ed’s shoulder. Jean had long since passed out in Ed’s bed, which most definitely wasn’t comfortable, seeing as the bed was made for 1 ½ people at the most. It was a miracle that it hadn’t collapsed under their combined weight.

“You guys want to go down to the cafeteria?” Meyer asked as the sky glowed a warm orange as the sun sunk lower past the horizon. Roy nodded and Ed kicked Jean’s side to get him to wake up. 

When they reached the school’s cafeteria, it was practically buzzing. Ed cringed and practically hid behind Roy’s tall figure as people began to buzz and point at him. The Central Academy students were bound to be curious, seeing as Ed didn’t even  _ go _ there. 

He lost his appetite when an insanely tall fourth year in uniform bluntly asked: 

“How the hell did a scrawny runt like you survive a serial killer when Melissa Brown didn’t?”

Which, what the hell? And second, who the hell was Melissa Brown. Under the combined power of Roy and Hawkeye’s cold glares, the fourth year quickly backed off without an answer. 

He was quickly sat down with the rest of the volleyball team, along with Hughes, and a scarily buff boy. His head was bald, save for a small curl that fell above his eyes, which were a clear baby blue.

“Alex Louis Armstrong,” the boy introduced himself. Ed didn’t return his handshake, which was probably rude, but he was feeling kind of sick. 

“Edward Elric.”

“Aren’t you the boy in the newspaper? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

“Yeah, I don’t go to Central. The article was mostly bullshit, I definitely wasn’t ‘crying tears of relief as the police heroically took down the Chopper, saving him from imminent death’” Ed quoted. “Pretty sure those were just terrified tears.”

The boy looked taken aback from his honest words before managing an awkward grin. The look was quickly washed away as he noticeably puffed up, waving at someone across the room.

“Olivier!” his voice boomed, effectively shutting down conversations around them as they turned to stare at him, “Is that you? Over here!” 

Ed turned in his seat to see a girl staring at Armstrong with clear disgust written over her face. She looked similar to Armstrong, with long blond hair, along with clear blue eyes. Then again, on Armstrong they looked innocent and… pure, on this ‘Olivier’ girl, they looked like they were about to shoot daggers through the blond boy’s heart. Ice Queen, much?  


“Shut up, Alex!” she yelled back, before turning, hair whipping around dramatically. A boy next to her with grey hair in a ponytail, notches shaved into it, smiled apologetically and followed after her. Another boy with a black mohawk just turned without a word.

“So those are the northern bears…” Ed muttered to himself.

“Yup, that’s my sister,” Alex looked delighted after she yelled at him.

“You look lovely as ever, Olivier!” Roy called after her. Ed shot him a glare. What the hell?

“Sorry,” he grinned sheepishly, “She kind of hates me. It pisses her off when I do that.”

“Oh, that’s perfectly fine, then,” Ed’s negative thoughts cleared up immediately. Who was he to stop someone from enraging others? 

Roy set down a tray of food and Ed picked at some of his baby carrots while listening to the chatter around him.

“She’s on the North City volleyball team. Captain of the Girl’s team, actually,” Armstrong supplied, “They call her the ‘Impregnable Wall of Briggs’.”

“Jean’s feint probably wouldn’t work against her,” Ed tried to discreetly examine her. Well, as discreetly as he could when there were about two hundred heads to look over.

“Oh, she  _ hates _ my dump,” Roy sniggered. 

“So do I, it’s fucking ridiculous,” Ed grumbled, stealing another carrot from Roy’s tray, “Who’s going to play setter for the games, anyway?”

“Maes.”

“Him? Alright,” Ed turned his gaze onto the boy who was now turning towards them.

“You called?”

“Have you played with the team yet?” he asked.

“Well, that’s what this week’s for, isn’t it?” Hughes replied. Well, if East City didn’t win, Ed knew whose ass he’d have to kick. 

Dinner was pretty… fun? Would that be the word to use? Surrounded by his friends and teammates, mingling with students all around the country. Everyone seemed happy, if not a bit competitive- the lights went out. 

The noise in the cafeteria was quickly growing louder and louder. 

“What the fuck?”

“Holy shit, what happened?”

“Fuck you, Dan! I see you taking my-” the door banged open. Light streamed into the cafeteria with a silhouette in the doorway. Like somebody had flipped a switch, all conversation and confusion ceased. 

“ _EDWARD ELRIC?_ ” 

No. He knew that voice. Fuck. 

He could see the man’s features clearly. His eyes flashed as they roamed over the crows and zeroed in on Ed. Fuck. No, no, no. He was in prison.

“Did you miss me?” Barry the Chopper leered. Ed froze in place as the murderer shoved students aside to where he sat, stiff as a board. His heart picked up its pace and he found it hard to breath. No, this was  _ impossible _ . He turned around. 

Where did everybody go? No, no, no. Roy- Roy was right next to him. Ed was stealing his carrots.  _ Where the fuck did he go?? _

“Looking for your friends?” it was just him and ‘Barry’ now. He stumbled as he stood and scrabbled to run around the table. “They’re  _ gone. _ ”

His arm was caught, in- in… in his hand.  _ They couldn’t be… could they? No, he saw them literally two seconds ago! _ ‘Barry’ pulled him and his eyes widened as ‘Barry’s face was  _ way, way _ too close.  _ Get out _ . He thrashed in the psycho’s vice like grip. He kicked out with his automail, only to find the other had become insanely flexible in his time in prison, dodging everything Ed tried to hit him with.

“How’d you think I got out?” he cackled, as if he could read Ed's thoughts, before reaching to something strapped across his back. The big gleaming butcher knife was back. Fuck- his shoulder started stinging at just the sight of it. Ed was pushed onto the ground, onto his back. 

_ Get out. _ He frantically pushed himself backwards, but he seemed to be getting nowhere, for every meter he put between him and ‘Barry’, the closer the lunatic stepped each time. Ed ripped off his glove and tore off the small piece of metal and- where the fuck was the switch. 

_ There was no switch. _ Holy shit fuck fuck fuck. If- if he couldn’t get the blade, then he was utterly, totally screwed. Tears forced their way to his eyes at just the thought. 

He backed up, fingered roaming over the automail to find the goddamn switch, and bumped into something. He whipped around. Or  _ someone _ . 

“Good night, Eddie,” ‘Barry’ grinned before swinging down, straight into his chest.

_ Thud. _

Ed’s eyes flew open. It was dark. So dark. His breath came quickly as his arms flew up to find something, anything. Was… was Hell really this dark? Pitch black? For all of eternity? Fuck, no he couldn’t be dead, could he?

He brought up a hand to smother the whimpering noises coming out of his mouth. 

“E-Ed?” a disembodied voice called. A lamp was switched on and Ed’s senses were suddenly flooded with light. Roy was half sitting up in his bed, blanket slipping off of his body as he quickly leaned down to wrap his arms around Ed. “Hey, hey… you’re fine. You’re good. You are in Central Academy’s extra dorm room.”

Ed wrapped his arms around Roy’s neck and clung to him. But… where was ‘Barry’? He had dinner and then ‘Barry’... no. He had dinner, and then returned to the dorms with Roy after Jean got up to use the bathroom. He returned to the dorms, brushed his teeth, stripped, and then collapsed in bed.

“Do… do you want to talk about it?”

“I…" Ed sucked in a huge breath, "We were at dinner. And then the lights went out, and then the- the Chopper found m-me. I tried to get the switch but the b-blade was gone. And then… he k-kill- he um. He had a knife…” Ed squeezed his eyes shut as warmth rushed to his face. God, he was such a fucking baby. People who just disappeared? A missing blade when Winry explained a thousand times how it worked? It was so  _ obvious _ that it was just a dream. “S-sorry to wake you. It was stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid,” Roy said sternly, pulled back to look Ed in the eyes, “Your feelings are never stupid.”

“O-okay,” he conceded quietly, “If… if it was just a dream why did it hurt?”

“Hurt…?” Roy’s voice trailed off before his gaze drifted up, “Oh. I think you might’ve um... fallen out of bed.”

Ed followed his line of sight and glanced at his own bed, where half the blankets were hanging the edge.

“Oh,” he buried his head back into Roy’s chest. They sat on the ground for a few moments before Roy cleared his throat.

“Do you, ah,” he hesitated and Ed heard his heart pick up pace, “Do you want to sleep with me?”

“Yeah,” Ed scrubbed at his face angrily before taking a deep breath, “I-if you’ll let me.”

He didn’t respond, just wordlessly climbed back into his bed and held open the blanket. An invitation. Ed flipped off the lamp sitting on the nightstand before climbing in next to Roy. It was small, but cozy. 

It was perfect. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this is the end. At some point, I sort of lost motivation, sorry about that, and the ending it sort of rushed. I feel like it's a bit stupid that there's all this buildup to this tournament in Central but then it's not included :( Anyways, Ed is kind of okay after that whole ordeal. With the weird AO3 formatting, this story took up 194 pages in Google Docs, and through the whole thing it's been titled 'au i assume haha rhymes fma' I know, very professional. Let me know how you liked this story, or if you hated it. Thank you!! :)


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